


Two Player Game

by SecretPeach



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Canon divergent - no COR ankle injury, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Mentions of homophobic society, Mutual Pining, No ankle injuries at all, YuzuSho both have healthy ankles, pushy parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-08-05 07:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16363481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretPeach/pseuds/SecretPeach
Summary: “What if we just...tell our parents we're dating.”Shoma is unimpressed and almost rolls his eyes. “That won’t work. I barely leave my house, and my mom knows all my fri-”“No. I mean, sayweare dating.Each other.”





	1. Ready! Set! Go!

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd because I'm impatient.

***

“Shoma, we need to talk about something.”

Shoma freezes and glances over at his mom. There are a few phrases that no one likes to hear. ‘ _We need to talk_ ’ is definitely up there in the list of verbal bad omens. Shome mentally goes over his day, trying to think of what he might have done wrong to earn a mid-dinner scolding. He had gone to training and had a decent session, and had a good class with his personal trainer, so he knew it was nothing to do with that. He wasn’t due to return to classes until September, so it can’t be anything to do with university. Shoma blinks at her. He answers around his mouthful of rice. “‘Kay?”

“Your dad and I have been talking--” she begins, another phrase that makes Shoma’s stomach drop. Maybe she’s going to ask him to start paying rent or to move out again. That would be weird, but it’s the only thing Shoma can think of. But he can see his dad roll his eyes as the words leave her mouth in a way that suggests he wants nothing to do with what comes next. Shoma frowns and swallows.  

“You are over 20,” she says primly. There’s a brief pause, her lips purse like she’s not sure what to say next. Or how to phrase it. “You’re getting to a certain age.”

Shoma stares at her blankly.

“We think it’s time for you to settle down.”

Itsuki barks out a short laugh. Their dad sighs and pushes his glasses up his nose. Shoma’s jaw drops.

‘ _A certain age_ ’. Marrying age. Shoma is alarmed but still has no idea where she is going with this. His parents wanting him to date is a perplexing topic for a serious, dinner-time conversation.

His mom continues with a gesture towards him. “You have a lot of of...attractive qualities...”

“She means money,” Itsuki whispers in Shoma’s ear, having scooted his chair closer and looking really inappropriately gleeful. Shoma subtly jostles him away with his elbow.

“--so we should be able to find you a nice girl--”

“You want to set me up,” Shoma deadpans. The realisation hits him like a bucket of ice. His parents want to set him up on dates. With girls. To settle down. With a _girl_ . Because he’s at a ‘certain age’ where he is expected to marry. **A girl**.

“Yes.” His mom nods, tone cool and crisp. As if what she is saying is perfectly reasonable and not wrong in about five different ways. “There are quite a few ladies at church with lovely daughters--”

Shoma is stunned. “You want to set me up on dates with people from your church?” He asks. Just. Trying to process this mess she has casually dumped on him.

She nods again. “Their daughters, yes.”

Itsuki dissolves into giggles. Shoma’s dad shakes his eyes and carries on eating, ignoring the conversation entirely.

“I don’t go to church,” Shoma says lamely, as if that is the biggest problem here.

“I’m aware of that.”

“Mom, you remember that conversation we had,” Shoma starts, trying to keep his voice calm but now his brain has thawed out after the initial shock, irritation begins to itch beneath his skin. He stares at her pointedly.  “That conversation about me not being interested in girls. And how I’m _very_ interested in boys, right?”

“Yes I remember,” she shoots back curtly. “But seeing as how you have not dated anyone before or after that little conversation, I think we can say that little phase wasn’t exactly a success for you.”

His dad winces. “Dear, that’s a bit…”

“Are you a virgin?” Itsuki whispers, having leaned forward again. Shoma flips him off under the table. His jaw is tight. The irritation he’s been holding down bubbles under the surface.

“Mom, this is a really nice idea and all but no.”

“No?”

“No.”

His mom looks deeply unimpressed at his attempts to be firm.  “I’ve already arranged a date for you on Saturday after training.”

Shoma’s eye twitches. He’s not merely annoyed anymore, he’s angry. How _dare_ she go behind his back and set him up on a date already? Who the _hell_ does she think she is?

“Cool. Cancel it.”

She smiles, just barely raising the corners of her mouth and not reaching her eyes at all. Weird and tight and mocking. “No.”

“Poor girl is going to get stood up, then, because I’m not going.”

“Want to bet?”

Shoma clicks his tongue and leans back in his chair, trying to keep his anger off his face and out of his voice. Yelling is not how people win. Threatening humiliation is how people win. “Or I’ll sit down and tell her that I’m gay.”

The half-smile instantly drops from her face. “I think it’s time you grew out of that, Shoma,” she says coldly.  “We both know you don’t really have any reference for whether or not you are...that.”

Heat flares up in Shoma’s face, not only from embarrassment but a fury that isn’t helped by Itsuki, the little shit, doubled over and shaking in silent laughter. It hurts, too. Like a stab in the gut or a slap in the face. Shoma stands up, kicking his hair back. “I’m not going.”

His dad sighs, tired. “Shoma, sit down and finish your dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.” Shoma scowls. His mom meddling is bad enough, but his dad humouring her feels like a betrayal. He glares at both of them. “I’m not going on any dates. Cancel it and butt out of my life.”

It’s juvenile to slam his bedroom door to punctuate his dramatic exit. But it is very satisfying.

* * *

 

Shoma has a process. Because he doesn’t like having outbursts and being angry or otherwise being so caught up in some emotion he can’t think properly. So he pulls his duvet over his head and has a therapeutic cry until he naps.

That doesn’t help. He wakes up, remembers the situation and he's angry all over again. So he stays sulking under his bedding and plays on his phone for a while with intermittent pauses to think about dinner, replay it over in his head and seethe, or lapse into hopelessness because he had no way to get out of the date or stop his mom from setting up more. She won’t go down easily, and he hates fighting.

Itsuki pops in three times. Once to see how Shoma feels and silently pat his back (since he catches Shoma in his second crying session). Again to say sorry for laughing. A final time to say goodnight while Shoma tries to distract himself with a manga he picked off the floor.

Shoma is tired, but he won’t sleep while his mind refused to clear. He needs someone to talk it out with. Itsuki is out because he’s already gone to sleep and Shoma is still pretty mad at him for finding it hilarious that their mom went ahead and decided to set Shoma up in some arranged relationship bullshit because apparently, his gay card expired due to underuse. Kotaro doesn’t know he is gay so wouldn’t understand the full crappiness of the situation. Keiji would try to be understanding but, Shoma realises looking at the time, he’s probably asleep too.

The time. Hm.

Yuzuru. Shoma has been moping for long enough, Yuzuru is probably available. Speaking to Yuzuru is usually something of a rare treat due to him living half-way across the planet, but there was no one else Shoma would rather talk to right now. Yuzuru will understand. He’ll empathise. He won’t laugh. Shoma knows this with absolute certainty. Yuzuru likes to play and tease as much as anyone, but he’s perceptive and knows when it’s not the time.  He’ll let Shoma vent as much as he needs to without judgement, and will be on Shoma’s side. Always.

Besides, it’d be nice to see his face. They haven’t seen each other since... that ice show they did. Whenever that was. Shoma messages him first.

                                                                           > Are you done with practice?

 **Yuzu:** Yeah, I had morning session today. Why?

                                                                           > Need someone to talk to :(

 **Yuzu:** Ah, need to rant?  
           I’ll get online now if you want to skype?

 

Shoma wiggles out of his blanket cave and moves to his laptop. Maybe it’s dumb to need someone to vent to, Shoma thinks as he shoves on his headset and removes to tape from over the camera on his laptop. But he needs it.

Predictably, Yuzuru immediately calls him as soon as he logs in.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, frowning cutely in the little box at the top right corner of Shoma’s screen. “Your eyes look puffy.”

“I’m pissed off,” Shoma sighs, without the heat he might have had a few hours ago. “My fucking mom--”

“Oooh, what did she do?”

Shoma rubs his eyes and groans. He can already feel the agitation rearing up again just thinking about it.  “She’s started the whole ‘ _you’re an adult now_ \--’”

“‘-- _Time to find a nice girl and get married_ ’?” Yuzuru finishes in the same high-pitched mocking tone. His shoulders slump forwards. “Yeah, my mom does that too.”

“Really?” Shoma always thought Yuzuru’s mom was...not the type to pull that kind of thing. It’s kind of comforting to hear, really. It’s not only Shoma’s mom being shitty. Yuzuru’s been in this position too. Shoma’s not alone.

“Every other damn day,” Yuzuru says with a wry smile. “ She’d probably drop it if I was dating someone. But when am I supposed to meet anyone?”

“You could if you ever left your house for any other reason than going training,” Shoma points out flatly.

Yuzuru scoffs. “You’re one to talk.”

Shoma finds it in himself to smile. Both of them are in the same boat. They can joke about being hermits and tease each other, but the fact is...it’s not as easy and straightforward as ‘ _just go out and pick someone up_ ’. They both know that. They both live it.

Shoma’s smile melts away rapidly, and he sighs again. Tired. Reminded of the infuriating shittiness he finds himself faced with.   
“She set me up on a blind date with some...daughter of some lady from her church.”

Yuzuru’s expression of complete and utter horror is vindicating. “Oh man. I’d lose my shit.”

“Right?”

Yuzuru hums. “Did she conveniently forget that you’re gay or what?”

“Something like that,” Shoma states bitterly. “And when I reminded her she basically told me to grow up and get over it.”

Yuzuru winces. “Ah yes. The whole ‘ _I thought that was a phase_ ’ thing.”

“With an extra helping of ‘ _but you don’t date any boys either_ ’,” Shoma adds. Yuzuru grunts in recognition. It’s bittersweet, having Yuzuru understand so completely, because it’s desperately sad too. Apparently, achieving great heights as athletes doesn’t mitigate the latent disappointment parents feel when having a child that strays from the typical narrative.

Shoma lets out a long, miserable exhale, and finally puts words to the worst part of this whole thing. “I thought she was okay. With me. I thought she accepted me. And just like that, she says I don’t know myself, and I should grow out of it. Like she was tolerating it for a while. Or she thought I was joking.”

And that, really, was the biggest slap in the face. Shoma remembers telling his parents he’s gay. It wasn’t easy. He had been terrified, but his dad had told him it was okay and his mom had promised they loved him just the same and he had been so relieved he had cried. Now that was snatched away from him.

In the window that houses Yuzuru’s face, Shoma sees him crumble. He shifts in a way Shoma knows isn’t Yuzuru’s usual fidgeting but the desperate urge to reach out and touch him even though he can’t. Physical comfort came easily to Yuzuru. He craved it, not only wanting to receive affection but constantly wanting to give.  

“She’s probably doing it for the same reason my mom does,” Yuzuru says gently. “I know she just doesn’t want me to be alone. She sees how I don’t date and don’t try to meet people and knows it’s because I’m scared of what would happen if everyone found out. But I don’t want to give up and marry some girl she set me up with. I want to...not be scared.”

Shoma’s stomach clenches. They had never really talked about this before. The struggles of it. It was all something they picked up in comments here and there, slices of smaller conversations here and there. Not hidden, but not discussed in depth either. The raw honesty of Yuzuru freely admitting his fear strikes Shoma like a punch to the gut because it’s so real.

The truth is, there is no way that Yuzuru would not be scared. Not in their culture, their country, their society, their social positions. Shoma has the same fear. Or a similar fear. But Yuzuru has a much greater weight to carry than Shoma. Reaching greatness comes with downsides. With power comes responsibility. Blah blah blah.

Shoma bites his lip. “I’m glad I have you to talk to. You’re the only one who gets it. Keiji kinda does but he--”

“Is straight?”

“Yeah,” Shoma says with a snort. “So his parents don’t really do all this shit to him.” He looks down, his voice shrinks the way he wishes he could.  “I wish they’d leave us alone, let us do things in our own time. Without expecting us to ever settle for a sham marriage to keep up appearances.”

The words are acrid at the back of his throat.  Yuzuru nods, face twisted in an unhappy grimace. That solidarity is comforting and the edge has been taken off, but Shoma is still wounded.  

Suddenly, Yuzuru's expression melts. Something dawns in his eyes. Shoma can see, even through the grainy, low-resolution of typical webcam video, the light of an idea shining as he lifts his gaze back up.  

“What if we lie?” Yuzuru says, hushed, like he’s in awe of his own brilliance.

“Huh?”

“What if we just...tell our parents we're dating.”

Shoma is unimpressed and almost rolls his eyes. “That won’t work. I barely leave my house, and my mom knows all my fri-”

“No. I mean, say _we_ are dating. _Each other_.”

Shoma stares at his screen not sure if this idea is amazing or amazingly dumb and a little bit too shocked to figure it out.

“Think about it,” Yuzuru says eagerly, eyes bright. “We could vouch for each other. We barely have to do anything to pretend. We can say we’ve been doing long distance dates and hooking up at competitions and shows.”

“I’m always in my bedroom. My mom could totally buy that.”

Yuzuru nods rapidly. “We get on. I’m touchy anyway. And if we say we were hiding it, well…”

No one could call them out on it, Shoma mentally supplements. They had gotten a lot closer since Shoma moved up to seniors. Especially since that first World Championship in Boston when they kind of accidentally ended up being each other’s confidants after the free; when Yuzuru needed to lament his loss without having to continually reaffirm that he was happy for Javier and Shoma just wanted to be openly miserable about his utter humiliation. It should be easy enough to convince people they are more than friends.

“You’re a genius,” Shoma utters, wholly sold on the idea.

“I know, right?” Yuzuru grins cheekily. “Since we’re only lying to our parents we probably won’t need to do anything--”

“All we have to do is hang out and skype! This is perfect!” Shoma laughs, giddy. Lying is generally a bad idea, but a lie that hurts no one, with a built-in backup and both of them get the benefits of their parents getting off their backs? Where was the downside? Yuzuru joins in, giggling at how delighted Shoma is. It seems so easy. And if they do have to put some effort in at some point, it would hardly be a chore to spend more time with Yuzuru.

Shoma takes a few deep breaths to calm himself and think more clearly. Details, they’d need to get the details sorted now, so they don’t blow their cover later. “We need to get a story straight because if I tell my mom I just started dating you recently, she won’t care.”

Yuzuru hums thoughtfully, ”So...it has to be at least a few months, right? Olympics? We got together there?”

“Ugh. We hooked up at the Olympics? What a cliche. No thanks”

“So...Ice shows?” Yuzuru suggests.

Shoma shakes his head. “That’s too soon. Maybe say earlier, and we were hiding it?”

“Ugh, I didn’t want to start dating you before you turned 20 but fine,” Yuzuru grumbles, eyes flitting up towards to ceiling as he thinks it over. “Worlds? Or Grand Prix Final?”

“The last Grand Prix final you were at was over a year ago, I was still 18,” Shoma points out. This would be easier if Yuzuru didn't end up sitting out more of last season because of an injury.

Yuzuru wrinkles his nose. “It’s a bit creepy but. I mean, it would explain why I didn’t want to say anything.”

“True. That could work. That means we’ve been dating for…”

“A year and a half?” Yuzuru’s lips curl into a coy smile. “That sounds serious.”

It does. And that would be exactly the kind of thing Shoma would need to get his mom to give up. Shoma tilts his head. “I guess it must be.”

Yuzuru chuckles, eyes sweeping over the image of Shoma on his screen briefly before shrugging his shoulders. “I could do worse.”

 

* * *

 

Shoma plans it meticulously. He doesn’t want to just rush into blurting it out at the first opportunity. He needs for it to be believable. He wants impact. Dinner, he decides, is the best time for maximum witnesses, and the likelihood of Itsuki taking to opportunity to suck up and jump to Shoma’s defence.

He wakes up late in the morning and, pointedly, doesn’t talk to his mom at all through the morning even though she tries. He leaves to go to training, closing the door with enough force to communicate his anger but not so much that the door slams.

She tries to talk to him again in the afternoon. He asks her if she has cancelled the date. She says no. He puts his earbuds in and totally ignores her for the rest of the day. He knows she’s bound to try a third time. She’s predictable and stubborn and is driven insane by unresolved conflicts.

Shoma is quiet through dinner, even as she does bring the issue up. He lets her talk, for a while, as she tries to spin it like an opportunity to make a new friend. He can tell she’s trying to be reasonable, hedging that it only has to be this one date and he can decide afterwards if another one would be okay. Just so she can save face by not being forced to cancel this date she arranged behind his back. Shoma clenches his jaw and utters a single word. “No.”

It’s difficult, to gauge when will be the right moment to bring in the lie. He sticks to his strategy of being quiet and denying his mom in blunt, single-word refusals of any offer or argument she makes to thoroughly wind her up until the tension around the table feels sufficient from a dramatic outburst.

“I **_can’t_ ** , okay?” Shoma eventually gasps. He’s aiming to make it sound like the words have been forced out of him. Like he was kicked in the stomach and they were forced out from the blow.

“Why can’t you go?” She asks, exasperated. “Other than you are being stubborn and want to sit in your room all evening playing video games.”

“I'm not stubborn,” Shoma snaps, glaring at her. It is outrageous that she can try to twist the situation to make him seem like the unreasonable one. As if she isn’t in the wrong. He closes his eyes, deliberately trying to soften. He knows he’s not the greatest actor, but there's enough real anguish in him that he doesn’t exactly need to put on a show. “Please, listen to me. Just this once.”

She presses on. “She’s pretty. She’s sweet. You might like her--”

He knows she’s going to say ‘ _as a friend_ ’. And maybe she’s right. Maybe Shoma could make friends with some mystery girl and they could settle into a platonic arranged marriage to keep up appearances. But Shoma didn’t want that. Ever. And it was cruel to assume any girl should have to tolerate that either.

Shoma gathers himself, trying to sound close to tears and brimming with frustration.

“I’m already dating someone!”

He practically yells it. His voice comes out raw and broken and it hurts his throat but he’s pretty sure his delivery was perfect.

Silence follows. Itsuki sets down his rice spoon and stares. His dad is frozen awkwardly.

His mom is caught off guard for a moment, but rolls eye eyes and feigns disinterest. “Sure.”

Shoma covers his face with his hands, hoping the action looks distressed and not like he just doesn’t know what to say next.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” Shoma argues, muffled beneath his hands. He lets them drop down to his lap and looks over at her miserably. “I couldn’t-I can’t- we had to keep it secret because...”

“Go on,” his dad urges. His forehead is creased, caught somewhere between concern, curiosity and confusion.

“It’d be bad for him. If people found out,” Shoma rasps, purposely making his voice quiet and breathy as if his throat is tight. “He’s older than me. We started seeing each other when I was still 18. We thought it would look bad…”

His mom wavers slightly, but hold on to her doubt. His dad, however, leans forward, urging. “Who is it?”

Shoma bites his lip and shakes his head, closing his eyes again as if it’s all too much and too difficult. Too hard to say.

His mom sighs. “Shoma-”

“Yuzuru,” Shoma croaks. “It’s Yuzuru.”

Everyone goes quiet again. Dad’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, while Shoma’s mom looks more troubled, her eyes narrow at the way Itsuki gapes. Shoma can practically see the wheels turning in her head.

“When…”

“Last GPF. The one in Europe, not Nagoya,” Shoma answers before the question is even finished. He keeps his voice low, barely above a whisper, his eyes downturned and shoulders hunched. Acting is hard. So many things to think about.

“Oh, that makes so much sense,” Itsuki says slowly. “You always kick me out your room when you’re skyping him.”

Their mom frowns. “You didn’t know?”

“We haven’t told _anyone_ ,” Shoma says hurriedly. She knows Shoma tells Itsuki basically everything. They have no secrets. Itsuki not knowing about a boyfriend Shoma is claiming to have had for over a year is a gaping hole he should have foreseen. Maybe the panic on his face and the urgency in his tone helps to sell the lie despite the stupid oversight. He really should have just told Itsuki first. “Yuzu...He’s scared what would happen if people found out. You know how much people talk about him, spread rumours, bad mouth him.” Shoma takes a deep breath to reign himself back in. He doesn’t want to lay it on too thick. “It would be bad for me, but it would be so much worse for him.”

Shoma watches sympathy trickle into his mom’s expression. Probably the best part of Yuzuru being his alibi out of stupid arranged dates is that he’s genuinely well liked and well respected. Shoma’s parents know him, have known him for years and are aware of the things he’s been through and what his life is like. The ups and down. The good and some of the bad. You have to be utterly cold-hearted or dead or evil to not empathise with him at least a little bit.

Sensing weakness, Shoma goes in for the final blow.

“Please. Mom. I love him--” he’s not sure how he does it, but he makes his voice waver, enough to sound breathy and desperate. “--He loves me.”  He looks his mom directly in the eyes, not blinking so he’ll tear up the tiniest amount. “Please cancel the date.”

She sucks in a long, shuddering breath and sighs. Defeated.

“Fine.”

 

* * *

 

“It totally worked,” Shoma gushes later, almost bouncing in his seat. Yuzuru smiles at him fondly through his webcam. “I think, she’s still kinda looking at me like she thinks I’m lying.”

“You’re a pretty sucky liar,” Yuzuru says dryly, before his smile shifts into a smug grin. “My mom ate it up, though.”

Shoma makes a small, interested kind of noise. He hadn’t expected Yuzuru to have told his mom yet. “How'd you do it?”

Yuzuru shrugs. “Acted moody all morning. Did the whole ‘I need to tell you something’ thing, sat her down, started crying--”

“I wish I could cry on command,” Shoma sighs. His whole routine would have been so much more effective if he had shed a few tears.

“I’m a pro,” Yuzuru gloats. It’s a skill he has innately that he is careful not to over-use or else it will lose its effectiveness. Though it seems to work on Javier no matter how many times Yuzuru sheds a tear because he wants some extra attention. Then again, Javi is a sucker.  
“I made out I felt guilty keeping it a secret and mentioned your mom was trying to get you to go out on dates and how I felt bad that you were telling your family and I wouldn’t be there with you to support you.” He gestures around with his hand. “Very dramatic, tears everywhere.”

“Nice.” Shoma nods in approval. He can imagine it well. Yuzu always had a penchant for drama. Shoma’s little scene probably pales in comparison. “I told my mom I’m in love with you.”

Yuzuru looks ridiculously pleased with that and cutely brings his hands up to cup his chin. He smiles, obnoxiously cute, and winks. “I’m very lovable.”

They both laugh, and spend the next hour or two basking in their success and playing Overwatch together. They make a pretty good team.

 


	2. More Players Join The Game

Shoma is barely awake when Itsuki flops on his bed and stares at him in this unnerving, impassive, knowing kind of way.

“What.” Shoma rubs his eyes and yawns so hard his jaw cracks. It’s too early to deal with Itsuki being a brat. He blearily looks at his phone. Okay, not actually that early, but definitely too soon after waking up to deal with it. Plus, Shoma doesn’t exactly have time. He has an hour to get dressed, eat and get to practice and he is all too aware of his tendency to dawdle.

Itsuki drops his voice to a whisper. “I know you’re lying.”

Shoma blinks slowly. He’s not awake enough to figure out what exactly Itsuki is referring to. “Huh?”

Itsuki sits up, not deterred from Shoma’s lack of reaction, and deadpans “saying you’ve been dating in secret for over a year is too ambitious, you dumbass.”

Shoma’s stomach drops. Of course, he’s talking about the whole dating Yuzuru thing. What’s really crap is Shoma instantly recognises that Itsuki has a point.  _ Dammit _ . They should have just agreed to say the hooked up at Olympics, even if it is a lame story at least it would have been believable. Everyone assumes athletes are fucking each other at the Olympics. That’s why the organisers prepared a million condoms.

Itsuki looks Shoma dead in the eye. “I knew it was bullshit as soon as you said you started dating while you were 18. There is no way you’d go that long without telling me.”

Shoma scowls. He isn’t  _ that  _ much of an open book, he is capable of keeping secrets. He starts to argue that point, but Itsuki cuts him off.

“You can. But you wouldn't,” He says, annoyingly matter-of-fact. “You tell me  _ everything _ . I know that. And you’re  _ fucked  _ because mom knows it too.”

Shoma sighs. There’s no point in putting on a front. He knows he’s already failed and... Itsuki is right. “Then why didn’t you just pretend you knew?”

“You didn’t exactly give me a heads up,” Itsuki snarks with typical teenage petulance. “There was a split second I could buy that you were dating Yuzuru, and I gave an honest reaction. Sorry.”

Shoma is intrigued as to why Itsuki could believe the lie if the specifics were a little different. If he had just said a few months instead of a year. But that’s not exactly a pressing matter. It seems more important to explain  _ why  _ he was lying so Itsuki would at least have to sense to help him maintain it. At least for a while.

“I don’t want her controlling my life.”

“I know. I’m really sorry for laughing.” Itsuki has apologised for laughing at least five times. Shoma isn’t mad, not at him. Not really. Especially since he can see that Itsuki is sincere and hear the empathy in his voice. And, if he was honest, if mom had announced over dinner she was arranging blind dates for Itsuki instead, Shoma most definitely would have laughed and teased him.

“Does Yuzuru know you’re saying he’s your boyfriend?”

Shoma snorts. It’s a fair question. “Yeah, it was his idea.”

“Oh,” Itsuki says flatly, brows furrowing. “That’s nice of him I guess.” Shoma narrows his eyes, curious at the odd shiftiness in Itsuki’s expression, like he doesn’t understand why Yuzuru would do such a thing. But when Shoma tilts his head in a silent question of why Itsuki is suddenly weird, Itsuki just shakes his head in dismissal, and instead offers “if you need me to help out, I’ll do what I can.” 

“Thanks,” Shoma says with a smile. He needs all the allies he can get. “You really think she knows I’m lying?”

Itsuki shrugs. “I dunno. I think she’s suspicious. She won’t call you out for a while though so there's time to fool her.”

Shoma groans. This wouldn’t be as easy as they initially thought. “Crap.”

 

***

 

Yuzuru walks into the Cricket Club the same way he does every morning. In his training gear, his bag slung over his shoulder, ready for a quick warm up before he hits the ice for the stroking class, music blaring in his ears and a pep in his step. Just another normal day.

“Yuzu!”  Brian calls out as soon as he spots Yuzuru in his periphery, rapidly gesturing towards his private office. “A quick word?”

Yuzuru pulls out his earphone and tilts his head, a little baffled as to why Brian is anxiously herding him into the office he barely uses aside from storing cereal bars for ‘dumbasses who can’t feed themselves’, contact information for skaters’ families and federations, and a really messy looking diary. Yuzuru has been well behaved. He does all his physio, he always warms up sufficiently and is careful about cooling and stretching after sessions, his weight is more or less stable and even if the little muscle loss and slight pudge that has developed over the off-season was a problem, Brian sure as hell wouldn’t feel the need to have a private chat to scold Yuzuru for it. Especially since Yuzuru’s self-proclaimed ‘squishy belly’ was just his body fat percentage creeping up to 8 instead of his typical, mid-season 5%. Not exactly a cause for concern. He follows Brian into the office anyway. It can’t be anything bad. Unless there’s a sudden need to change Yuzuru’s training schedule weeks before the season starts, though he can’t think we there would be. Training has been going fine, he doesn’t  _ think  _ there have been any problems with other skaters...unless someone has complained about Yuzuru jacking up the ice and just leaving all his potholes everywhere again. But they  _ have  _ a guy for ice maintenance, that’s not Yuzuru’s jo--

“Someone told me something this morning I think you might want to be aware of,” Brian starts briskly, snapping Yuzuru out of his mental preamble. “Sit down.”

“Um, okay.” Yuzuru shuffles towards the desk and sits down on one of the chairs. Brian opts to sit kind of diagonal to him, not directly across but not next to him either. Able to look him in the eye but also easily able to lean over and touch him if needed. An ominous feeling stirs in Yuzuru’s gut. Maybe Javi decided he won’t come back to Toronto in November after all...

“There is...a rumour--”

Yuzuru groans. He should have known. He swears he saw someone creeping in the bushes in the car park the other day. He kinda just assumed that these creepy tabloid types would lose interest in him after seeing how despairingly vanilla his life is after a few days of stalking but they just keep on making stuff up instead. “In magazine?”

“No, no. Just making its way down the grapevine--” Brian says in a way Yuzuru is sure should be reassuring but he’s too busy wondering what grapes have to do with anything. “It’s about you dating-”

“How many time I must say I no date Evgenia?” Yuzuru huffs. He was fairly mortified the first time he saw people printing such a thing, and wanted to fling himself into the sun when people started to take it seriously, but it is just annoying now. He’s already spoken directly to the media about it saying it’s not true, they really need to just--

“Not her,” Brian says, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “Shoma. Uno.”

Yuzuru swears his heart stops beating.  He can feel all the colour drain from his face. “What.”

“Apparently it is making the rounds. No magazines. No websites. Just--”

“W-who tell you?” Yuzuru bursts out, breathless and high pitched, tongue tripping over the words because it’s hard to speak English as fast as his panic compels him to. “How they know? D-do they talk my mom?”    
  


“Evgenia told me. Another skater told her--” Brian’s eyes widen, taking in the image of Yuzuru in front of him; white as a ghost, shaking and frantic. “Wait. Yuzuru. Is this true?”

Yuzuru is on the brink of hyperventilating, so can’t talk. He doesn’t even know how to answer, but really that’s not the most pressing issue. First, he needs to try to stop himself from panicking so much he triggers a full-blown asthma attack, but he also needs to know how in the hell news of Yuzuru and Shoma’s dating story has broken loose and made its way to Toronto a lousy  _ three days _ after Shoma had lied to his mom. 

“Oh wow,” Brian mutters, taking Yuzuru’s abject panic as a yes. “Well. That’s something.”

Evgenia. Evgenia told Brian. That made no sense at all. “How she hear? How she know?”

“Some Japanese friend of hers told her-”

Yuzuru doubles over in his seat, bringing his head down between his knees and desperately trying to control his breathing. Evgenia heard from a Japanese friend, which meant people in Japan knew and were gossiping about it and could be overheard by anyone and the whole thing could explode all over the internet  _ any minute _ \--

“Hey, hey,” Brian coos, gently reaching out to pat Yuzuru’s back in an attempt to soothe him.  “She told me because she thought if the team knew, we could help you keep this contained. So it doesn’t get out unless you want it to.”

“People know. Already out,” Yuzuru gasped. “Gonna puke.”

To his credit, Brian doesn’t move back away from Yuzuru and is willing to risk getting regurgitated egg on his sneakers if he can calm Yuzuru down enough to save him the week-long set-back at asthma attack typically comes with. He’s already pulled the inhaler out from his jacket pocket just in case but knows Yuzuru won’t use it unless absolutely necessary and since Yuzuru hasn’t started wheezing yet, they are still in the clear.

“Breathe. Yuzu, breathe. Slow, deep breaths,” he croons, still stroking Yuzuru’s back, guiding his breathing until it’s almost normal; deeper, more even, not shallow and shuddering. He urges Yuzuru to look up at him, meeting Yuzuru’s terrified brown eyes with his watery blues. “I’m going to help you. I’ve been here, I know how this feels. I’m not sure who outed you or how many people know but I will do everything I can to stop this from reaching the media.”

Yuzuru nods slowly. He hopes Brian also knows that this cannot, under any circumstances, reach the JSF. Even if the detail about them dating each other is false, them both being gay is not and the JSF would likely implode if they had to protect their two top men for this.  _ Again _ . And frankly, Yuzuru isn’t completely convinced the JSF would sprain themselves to protect him. Sure, some would, but some people still view him as a little upstart who stole glory from more deserving skaters.

Brian is still speaking to him, in a calm and controlled tone. Still stroking his back in a way that just makes Yuzuru really wish Javi wasn’t in Spain.  “From what I gather, it’s a few Japanese skaters who know. They are your friends. I’m sure they don’t want to hurt you. Evgenia told me so I can protect you--”

Yuzuru straightens up. It would be nice to hear just what exactly Evgenia has heard and who exactly from. “Where she now?”

“She is--” Brian looked out the little window the office has that looks over the rink, gesturing with his hand as he goes, ready to point her out, but instead of extending his index finger he clenches his fist. “Oh.”

Yuzuru follows his gaze and sees Evgenia on the bench beside the ice. With Jason. And Gabby. And Junhwan. Heads together, talking. Jason gasps and flaps his hands and Evgenia hisses something at him and Yuzuru just  _ knows _ .

He shoots out of the seat and out of the office before Brian can even call after him.

If Yuzuru wasn’t sure before, he is when he came to a stop at the bench and everyone abruptly stops talking and stare at him.

“You!” Yuzuru blusters at Evgenia, his face hot and red with anger and embarrassment. “You tell everyone?

Evgenia looks up at him like a deer caught in headlights. “I- We were just--”

“We were talking about what we could do to kill the rumour. Stop it from spreading,” Gabby explains charitably.

Yuzuru feels like he’s going to explode. Everyone around him is a moron. “Not tell  _ everyone  _ is good start!!”

Evgenia’s eyes, somehow, get even wider. “I’m--”

“You know it against club rule to gossip, right?” Yuzuru snaps, cutting her off. Gabby pulls a face. Jason winces.

Evengia’s lip trembles. “I...I didn’t…You’re angry.” To Yuzuru’s complete and utter horror, he can see tears welling up in her pretty brown eyes, her voice is shrunken down to some strange, soft imitation of her usual self. “Is Brian angry? Am I kicked out? Do I must go back to Russia?”

“What? No? No!” Yuzuru is horrified. What exactly did Eteri  _ do  _ to her? Yuzuru was aware that Sambo was an aggressively competitive place to train but this is ridiculous. Not one gets kicked out over one little thing. He shakes his head rapidly. “How you find out?

Evgenia sniffles. “Wakaba tell me. Shoma’s mom ask...someone at his rink? If it true. They ask Keiji, Keiji ask Kanako and she tell Satoko…”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Yuzuru hisses, shocking Jason who has, quite possibly, never heard him cuss in English before. This is bad. Kanako is a notorious blabbermouth. “Kanako tell  _ everyone _ . I’m kill Keiji. And Kana.”

Gabby leans forward, her ponytail swishing forward, blonde tips coming over her shoulder. Yuzuru isn’t used to her blonde yet. He thinks it looks weird with her dark, golden skin. She glances up at him curiously. “Well, is it true?”

Yuzuru struggles for a moment. If he says no, it could get back to Shoma’s mom the same way it got to Cricket in the first place - through mindless gossip. But Shoma hadn’t agreed to lie to a bunch of their friends and everyone in their shared social circle. Still, Yuzuru feels like he has no choice. “Yes”

“Oh my god! I knew it!” Jason gushes, clapping his hands gleefully, bouncing in his seat next to Evgenia, jostling her slightly which seems to be interfering with her attempts to regain composure.

Junhwan grins, tilting his head like a mischievous little brother. Because he knows he can be a brat to Yuzuru, because Yuzuru not-so-secretly loves it. “When did you start dating?”

“Last year. We keep secret. He tell his mom because she was trying to force him up on dates.” Yuzuru quickly looks around the group and remembers he really, really needs to at least try to keep the story contained. “Do not tell Conrad! Or Joseph! No tell anyone, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” Junhwan says with a roll of his eyes, but once he’s done he shoots Yuzuru a sweet little smile. “Sorry his mom started doing arranging dates. That sucks.”

Yuzuru grumbles, “I’m hoping she stop now.”

“This is so cute. I knew it,” Jason says, again, totally delighted. “You always have total heart eyes around him.”

Evgenia tilts her head contemplatively before nodding in agreement. Junhwan giggles and immediately imitates the moment at Olympics where Yuzuru had ruffled Shoma’s hair.

Yuzuru isn’t sure what Jason means. Heart-eyes? Like an emoticon? Around Shoma? Yuzuru doesn’t know what to make of that but hey, at least it will help sell the lie to anyone who needs convincing.

Gabby purses her lips and uncaps her water bottle, pausing to speak before taking a sip. ”Not to be judgemental but...Shoma still looks like he’s about 15.”

Yuzuru answers automatically, without even a second of thought. “Yeah, well, you never see him naked-”

Junhwan laughs, but takes this as his cue to leave and wanders off to go be coddled by Tracy. Gabby chokes of her water. Evgenia turns bright red. Jason, interestingly, hums in agreement. Yuzuru looks at him oddly. 

“What?” Jason says, just a bit defensive. “I’ve seen him in the locker rooms. He’s…”

There’s something about the idea of Jason checking out Shoma in the locker rooms that makes Yuzuru feel itchy all over. Kind of...not jealous but like he ought to tell Jason to avert his eyes next time because really… Shoma is  _ Yuzuru’s  _ fake boyfriend and Jason ought to  _ not _ .

Instead, Yuzuru takes a golden opportunity to mess with them. 

“Yeah,” Yuzuru says, dreamily. “Nice body. Nice butt…” He smirks, already seeing Evgenia grimacing in discomfort. “And...not so small. Pretty big. Where matters.”

“I didn’t need to know that!!!” Evgenia shrieks “I’ve known him since junior!! I don’t-- I never--” 

Jason is practically doubled over laughing. Evgenia splutters some more and pushes herself up off the bench to run away. Which is a little bit satisfying.

Gabby raises her water bottle in a toast. “Congratulations, I guess.”

 

***

 

It seems obvious to try to contact Shoma as soon as possible. By some quirk of fate, Shoma had actually bothered to ask Yuzuru when he finished training and when he would be home so they could talk, which was great, because Yuzuru wasn’t sure whether to cry or scream or just whine at him about how monumentally fucked up their little plan went pretty much immediately.

If there was a lesson in this, Yuzuru assumes it’s something about spending more than twenty minutes concocting a scheme before following through with it. He stands by his choices, though. His mom believes him. A little  _ too  _ easily, to be honest. It makes Yuzuru a little suspicious.

And it has all the potential to work. His mom has backed off, though does want Shoma to have dinner with them at some point. Shoma’s mom has said she will back off too, and will, as soon as they sufficiently convince her they are, actually, a committed couple. Which Yuzuru still doesn’t think would involve  _ that  _ much labour because no one in an actual relationship really makes much of a performance out of it. Unless they are completely and utterly annoying.

Or...disgustingly cute. Like Javi. 

Yuzuru shoots to his room to call Shoma as soon as he gets home from training. Still in his training clothes, still kind of gross and sweaty but this was a dire situation. Shoma answers probably the fastest he ever has. They speak at exactly the same time.

 

“We have a problem.”

They pause and burst out laughing. Yuzuru is in half a mind to jinx Shoma but that would be mean. Instead, he gestures for Shoma to go ahead. “You go first.”

Shoma nods, his face turning grave. “My mom definitely thinks I’m lying.”

“I figured,” Yuzuru grumbles. Shoma tilts his head curiously. Yuzuru is pretty sure Shoma knows how adorable he looks when he does that, but even Shoma’s puppy-cuteness can’t distract him from his disastrous morning. Yuzuru thins his lips. “Do you know your mom asked people at your rink if they knew?”

“Yeah. She asked Ryuju and Kotaro. We had another fight over it--” Shoma says glumly. Yuzuru softens. All this arguing with his mother was clearly getting to Shoma. He hates fighting. He loves his mom. She can be strict and annoying in a usual mom way but Yuzuru knows it must be really hurting Shoma to be having such regular arguments with her. Shoma frowns at Yuzuru through their laptops, spotting the problem with Yuzuru telling Shoma about his mother’s actions. “Wait. How do you know? Did Ryu tell you about it?”

“No,” Yuzuru says with a shake of his head. “Ryu asked Keiji, Keiji asked Kanako…”

“Oh  _ shit, _ ” Shoma hisses. “Kanako told everyone.”

Yuzuru grimaces. “Yup. Wakaba told Evgenia and she told Brian. And Gabby, and Jason, and Junhwan…Everyone at my rink knows we are dating now.” That doesn’t quite sound right. Yuzuru catches himself, stumbles over his words for a moment to correct himself. “Thinks we are dating. They all think we are dating.” 

Shoma doesn't seem to care about the semantics between what others maybe know or think they know. Instead, he just looks concerned about Yuzuru in general.  “Are you okay?”

The fear. Of course. Shoma knows about the fear. 

“I am slightly okay now,” Yuzuru tells him tightly. “I was not when I found out.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to Kana and everyone but…” Shoma pauses, biting his lip nervously. “You know, Kana loves you, she wouldn’t-”

“I know. I know,” Yuzuru sighs. He’s aware his response to anyone knowing or talking about his sexuality and, even fake,  love life without him being a part of it is not entirely rational. “No one she’s likely to have told will spill to the public or whatever but…”

“It still sucks.” Shoma nods, understanding. “I’m sorry. You’re doing this to help me and--”

“You’re helping me too,” Yuzuru reminds him. Yes, this did start because of Shoma’s predicament, but Yuzuru is capitalising off it as well. He’s not a selfless person. He wouldn’t fall on the blade if he didn’t think it was worth it.

Shoma smiles, but it’s weird and sad and Yuzuru is awash with a need to change it to the one he likes where Shoma laughs and wrinkles his nose like a bunny. 

“Guess we’re not just lying to our parents then.”

“Guess not.” Yuzuru takes a deep breath and quirks his lips more mischievously. “Oh, and, uh. Anyone who trains with me assumes we are having sex.”

Shoma rolls his eyes.  “Duh.”

“I might have told Gabby and Zhenya you have a big dick.”

Shoma snorts and Yuzuru is pleased to see his smile thaw out, warmer and genuine. Though it's more of a cocky smirk than anything else. “Thanks.” 

Shoma doesn’t just himself much time to enjoy the compliment because a thought hit him that made him groan. “Oh God, Medo will tell Alina.” He shakes his head, tacking on rapidly, “that we are dating, not that I have a big dick. I hope. I don’t want anyone saying anything like that to Alina.”

“Gabby will tell Karen,” Yuzuru adds, “probably both things. Jason...” Ugh, Jason was way too happy. He’ll tell anyone in a 10-mile radius probably. Though Yuzuru thinks he has the sense to be selective. Considering he suspects Jason is somewhere deep in one closet or another in some way. “I told them not to spread it, but I know they will.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Shoma huffs bitterly. “We’ll think of some way to convince her I’m not lying and I suppose we have to keep it up in front of everyone.”

“It might be difficult.”

Shoma lifts his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug.  “Not really. It’s not like anyone is going to ask us to prove it.”

Yuzuru chuckles. “I guess not.” 

“Hey,” Shoma says, his tone gentling. “If any rumours leak out we just dismiss them. It’s fine. If it gets too much, we end it.” He looks at Yuzuru through his webcam about as earnestly as anyone can through skype. “But while we’re doing this...I’m here for you. I’ll protect you as much as I can. I’m in your corner. Always. Okay?”

Yuzuru feels tension melt out of his body and warmth creep in to replace it. His smile might be weak and wobbly, but it’s not forced at all. Which is something. “Yeah. Me too. I’m here for you too.”

“I know,” Shoma says, unbearably soft. “You always have been.”

Yuzuru looks at the time and swallows down the lump threatening to form in his throat. He needs to shower and do stuff. Like study. If he does a little every day he never needs to cram. Besides, Shoma needs to sleep.

“I have to go,” Yuzuru says. “I’ll talk to you later, you sexy little thing.”

Shoma sputters out a short and ugly laugh that makes Yuzuru’s day instantly better. “Later, sweetheart. I’ll dream of you.”

“You better,” Yuzuru winks. “And then tell me all about it.” 

They giggle at each other until they both have the heart to end the session. Yuzuru ends up hovering for a moment, smiling at his empty laptop screen. Flirting is fun. The silly, joke flirting can stay.  He’s really surprised how much Shoma is able to just go for it when just two years ago he was so shy he could barely talk.

They had come a long way.

  
  



	3. Chess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh yeah, you totally hated it. I could tell from how you were on his lap."

 

Shoma has grown to really enjoy the arrangement with Yuzuru. Even if his mom is suspicious and Itsuki likes to make small, private, teasing comments at him, there are some upsides. Other than just getting out of miserable, boring, forced dates with strange girls he would have no interest in whatsoever. Like Yuzuru talking to him more.

Yuzuru is always fun to be around, good to talk to, but usually distant. The sort of friend who will respond to messages in random three hour periods and drop a conversation in a random spot only to reappear three weeks later to start a new one. He is usually difficult to keep in contact with; because he lives so far away and just because of his nature. Sensitive, in need of space and quiet to focus on training and studying, and kind of weirdly self-punishing in how he tends to isolate himself for stretches of time. They talked when they weren’t competing, sure. They played online games together and bitched at each other over headsets. But Shoma wouldn’t say it was _frequent_. Shoma’s introversion and preference for his mobile games combined with Yuzuru’s bouts of disappearing meant they only really talked once or twice a month outside of ice shows and events. Usually.

Yuzuru was out of reach; as an athlete, as a person, as a friend. Someone to admire, but never really be close to.

Since this little lie started, Yuzuru seems to make a conscious effort to keep in touch more. Talking on skype or while they game once or twice a month became at least once a week. Messages online changed from a rarity to a near-daily occurrence. Shoma likes that.

Yuzuru finds it easy to leave friendships alone for a while and then just pick them up as if no time has passed, but Shoma really can’t do that so easily. He just doesn’t have that level of emotional permeance. Shoma needs more regular interaction to keep relationships maintained.

Maybe it is just all for show — to sell the story better to their families by visibly being in contact with each other, but the motive matters less to Shoma than the action itself. Besides, Yuzuru claims that he’s just letting himself socialise more this season. Maybe this would have happened anyway. Maybe Yuzuru really wants to talk to Shoma more and was holding back before.

“I’m not under the same pressure anymore,” Yuzuru says with an airiness to his voice that sounds really serene and happy. “I’m just skating for myself now so I can be a bit more free.”

They even kept it up as the season started. Even when Yuzuru’s attitude, predictably, changed a bit.

“So, turns out, I still want to win stuff.”

“But you did win,” Shoma tells him plainly. He wants to laugh at the idea of Yuzuru really thinking for any length of time that he could compete and not have high expectations for himself or desire to win.

“I didn’t win the free skate!” Yuzuru half-whines. Because of course, the end result was never enough. With Yuzuru, it always had to be everything; the Short, the Free, his own performance in comparison to past performances.

Shoma snorts, “Oh well, there’s always next time.”

Of course, next time Yuzuru set new records under the new scoring system. Not that Yuzu was satisfied with that; he wanted to break 300 again.

They don’t talk about skating much, though. They usually opt for other things. So their friendship isn’t just all about the sport. They had other things in common. Other points of contact.

Other things have crept into their friendship that Shoma rather enjoys, though he’s not sure if he’d ever admit just how much he likes it. Notably, making flirty jokes at each other that they never made before. Shoma knows it’s not serious, that it’s part of the game, but it feels like a barrier has been taken away. Yuzuru seems even more like someone Shoma could say anything to; make any kind of joke, give genuine compliments to and express anything on his mind at any time without having to think much about it. Because of this thing they had now that was just for them. Their secret. Their in-joke.

Though, Shoma wasn’t sure if they were at this level yet. Or, at least, he hadn’t expected it.

He stares at his phone in bewilderment. Yuzuru has sent Shoma photos before, of costumes (‘You look like Elsa’ had been Shoma’s response to the first one, though the second one looked cool. Yuzuru had responded in telling Shoma his ‘red thing’ made him look like an extra hot cheeto. When he had changed it, Yuzuru told him he looked like a grape in bondage). He had sent a photo of his textbooks to whine about school, or his boots when they had fallen apart. Shoma had sent him a picture of the view from his hotel window in Italy and screenshots of his high scores in games. Normal stuff.

So Yuzuru sending photos is not weird. But Shoma wasn’t prepared to open his phone to see Yuzuru _naked_.

Okay, not naked. On closer inspection, a small strip of the top of Yuzuru’s jogging pants is visible at the bottom of the frame. Which is a relief. But he is shirtless. His long, lean torso laid out on his bed, one arm stretched up to take the photo and the other casually pushing his hair back from his forehead. Shoma focuses there first, at his face. Yuzuru is smirking in a way that is just...downright unfair. His head tilted to show off his long neck. And then it’s just...chest. Smooth, pale skin. Pink nipples peaked from being exposed to the air in the room.

Shoma can’t help but stare. They’d shared changing rooms, they’d seen each other shirtless before, but he didn’t look. Not really. That would be impolite. And Yuzuru wasn’t usually baring his neck and making bedroom eyes at him. Thank God.

Shoma notices that Yuzuru has, apparently, been doing some upper body work. More than usual. His chest is definitely more muscular and defined. His abs aren’t exactly cut but definitely there, way more than Shoma’s. His body is nicely highlighted from the darkness of the images and the illumination coming from one source beside the bed, casting shadows that draw every curve, every rise of bone and cut of muscle in sharp relief.

There’s a second picture, Shoma realises as he scrolls down. In this one Yuzu’s free hand is laid over his hip, his back seems slightly arched, and he’s biting his lip. Shoma wants to throw his phone against the wall.

It takes him a good five minutes of looking at these photos - trying to figure out why Yuzuru would send them to him - before he even realises there is text accompanying them.   
  


> Hey ~

> Come on Skype ~   
  


Shoma blinks slowly. He assumes it’s a joke. Or something. Somehow this makes sense to Yuzu. Shoma doesn’t understand. He’s not scandalised or anything. Just confused. And. Uncomfortable. Because Shoma really doesn’t need this kind of material on his phone. That doesn’t stop him from saving the photos to his gallery for later. Though Shoma will delete them if it turns out Yuzuru meant to send them to someone else. Shoma has no idea who Yuzu would be sending sexy photos to, but that’s his business, really.

When Shoma actually gets around to getting Yuzuru on skype, he’s greeted by the image of him wearing a black T-shirt.

“Oh, you have a shirt on.” Shome tries not to sound disappointed by that. Or at least, he hopes that isn’t how it came out. He was shooting for more of a dry-observational tone.

Yuzuru laughs at first but then seems to think better of it, sobering quickly and pulling a face that is vaguely anxious. Like he’s anticipating a verbal smackdown. “Too far?”

Shoma grimaces, thinking about it. They hadn’t set any boundaries for this game they are playing. He’s not entirely sure he wants to start. He’s been enjoying the freedom. “Not really? It was just a...surprise.” Shoma shrugs. Yuzuru’s expression clears, back to looking amused and playful. “I thought they might’ve been for someone else.”

Yuzuru cackles. “Who else would I send them to?”

Shoma shrugs. His face feels warm. He really hopes he’s not blushing enough for Yuzuru to actually see it. The thought that out of all the people that Yuzuru knows —all the tall, buffed up guys that are willing to pick him up at galas and banquets. The string of ice dancers who routinely offer to help him out of a costume whenever he makes a show out of the zipper being ‘stuck’ — Shoma is the only person he can think of to send suggestive photos to is a lot to take in.

“Really, I was just bored,” Yuzuru says nonchalantly as if it’s totally normal to send friends photos of yourself half-naked for amusement. “Anyway, your mom might be the type to look through your phone. If she sees that, she won’t be in a rush to do it again.”

Shoma hums thoughtfully, tilting his head. His mom could be strict and a bit on the overbearing side but he didn’t think she’d directly violate his privacy like that. “I dunno if she looks at my messages.”

“Oh well.” Yuzuru gets that look in his eyes, a playful little spark as he bites his bottom lip and raises a brow. “Wanna take your top off to even the score?”

Shoma pauses. “Are you serious?”

“Are you willing?” Yuzuru tosses his head back and laughs, loud and free. He shakes his head, smiling fondly at Shoma when he’s reined his laughter into a giggle.  “No, you’re fine. You free to chat though?”

“Sure, what’s up?” Shoma asks, smiling but able to hold back his own laughter. Yuzuru’s moods are often infectious, even over webcam.

Yuzuru settled, shifting back in his seat, offering Shoma more of a view of the room around him. It was dark like Yuzuru only had a lamp on to provide light, other than his laptop screen. The warmer light hit his skin in a way that softened his features. The way his mouth temporarily screws up looks cute. “I had an idea. But. You might not like it.”

“Hm?”

“Is your mom coming to Vancouver with you?”

Shoma tilts his head. He knows better than to think that Yuzuru just randomly changed the subject, but he can’t predict where Yuzuru is going to go with this. “Probably. Assuming I qualify.”

“You’ll qualify,” Yuzuru scoffs, compete with an eye roll. Shoma smiles at the show of confidence in him. “She visits you in the hotel after events sometimes, right?”

“Uh... If I ask her to come. Or if I left something with her.”

Yuzuru nods at this crucial detail. “I thought maybe we could have her like...walk in on us.”

Whatever Shoma thought Yuzu was going to propose, that wasn’t it, and he’s pretty sure what he is thinking is not what Yuzu means because Shoma’s mind plummets straight into the gutter. The photos from earlier flash in his mind, only now he’s imagining being part of the scene vividly. Yuzuru sprawled out on his bed, looking up with heavy-lidded eyes as Shoma crawls on top of him. Shoma chokes. “What?”

“You know...Since she’s not convinced, snooping and causing trouble. What could convince her more than her seeing us together?” Yuzuru says casually, not clearing up what he means at all which just makes Shoma panic more.

“W-what do you want her walking in on?”

Yuzuru shrugs. “I dunno. Just kissing or something.”

“Kissing.” Even that causes an assault of intrusive mental images Shoma could have lived without.

“Do you think you could do it? Because we could come up with something else...but it would be pretty effective. If you really didn’t want to—”

“I could do it,” Shoma interrupts to save Yuzu from going on a nervous ramble for twenty minutes. “Kissing isn’t that big of a deal.” He mentally repeats that to himself, stepping away from the thought of making out with Yuzuru and turning towards something...tamer and more realistic. A platonic kiss for show so his mom will stop looking into the holes in their story and just accept it as a reality. That’d be fine. Kissing friends is acceptable. Normal, even. Everyone’s kissed a friend at least once. Probably. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

Yuzuru shifts and presses his lips together. “Uh, it came to me about an hour ago.”

Shoma snorts. Typical Yuzu. He’s naturally very calculating and meticulous, but he can get too enthusiastic, latch onto ideas quickly and get tunnel vision. “It would probably work. Would you even want to, though?”

“Want to kiss you?” Yuzuru hums thoughtfully, and Shoma has never regretted a question more in his life. “Sure. You’re cute. It’s not going to be a chore or anything.”

Shoma’s face feels hot again, hotter than before. He looks away from his laptop, focusing on the wall instead because looking at Yuzuru is a bit too much right now. “We’re friends. We’re comfortable enough for that.”

“Exactly,” Yuzuru says with a smile, shuffling forwards in his seat so he can rest his chin in his hands. “So, how’s your day been?”

 

***

 

Yuzuru is excited for the final for many reasons. The first being that he had to skip the previous year, and he wants his 5th title, but oddly that wasn’t the most significant thing making him bounce down the halls of the hotel as he headed to his room in Vancouver. Japan was the only country to have two spots in the final for the men’s competition, and both he and Shoma had qualified with 30 points. That little fact just filled Yuzuru with pride and joy beyond description. Shoma’s rise to meet him at the top means that there are two Japanese men standing as a dominant force over the field. It fills him with excitement, to battle against Shoma for the first time in the season, and adds to his confidence in an odd way. Even if he does poorly, one of them will make the Japanese anthem play.

Yuzuru feels good. Reasonably focused, energised. He’s trained well over the past two weeks, he has a good streak behind him, he’s finally won two golds ahead of the final, and he only had to fly for five hours to get here before the first practice day, and he has a slightly new judging system to break the ceiling of. The only thing that could make it better would be if Javi were in the final too, but at least Junhwan qualified so there’s one training mate to go against.

“I think this is my room,” Junhwan says, stopping in the hall behind Yuzuru. “Are you going to just chill out tonight?”

“Hm, probably,” Yuzuru answers with a smile. His room is two or three doors down from Junhwan, but he stops anyway to be polite. “I’ll go to Shoma’s room first, though.”

Junhwan rolls his eyes. “Of course.” He smirks. Junhwan could be such a brat sometimes but hides it behind being adorable. “Have a nice night, then.”

“You too,” Yuzuru tells him sweetly. “Rest well for tomorrow~.”

Yuzuru watches Junhwan slip into his room before continuing on his way. First, to his own allocated room to get rid of his suitcase and settle a bit, then to Shoma’s room as planned. It is better to go over schemes and such before the competition really started when they’d both rather avoid distractions, and some things are better said in person.

Shoma had already been in Vancouver for almost a week since he needed extra time to shake off the jet-lag that tends to plague him, so his hotel room is...lived in. Cluttered. Not exactly messy but not particularly clean either. Not that it bothered Yuzu. It added to the cosy feeling while they lounge on Shoma’s bed, with Shoma sprawled on his belly and Yuzu stretched out beside him.

“I’ve had a thought,” Yuzuru starts, once Shoma has finished the part of his game he wanted to beat and has put his phone down. Shoma was, at least, able to play and talk at the same time and had given Yuzuru valuable information about the ice condition while he played. Occasionally, he will kick his legs up behind him and wiggle his feet. Yuzuru won’t tell him how cute that is, because that would probably make Shoma stop, but it is very, very cute.

“Did it hurt?” Shoma jokes, closing his phone case to properly pay attention to Yuzuru. He looks apprehensive, probably because the last time Yuzuru made a random proposal, it was to talk Shoma into putting on a show for his mother.

Yuzuru ignores him and ploughs on. “We told everyone we started dating around the final in France, right?”

Shoma props himself up on his elbows and frowns. Yuzuru doubts he even remembers that there was a final in France. There’s a fair chance Shoma didn’t realise he was in France while he was there. Shoma nods regardless. “Uh huh.”

“So. That means we'll have our two year anniversary here.”

Shoma’s eyes widen almost comically in understanding. “Oh. We should decide a date then I suppose.”

Yuzuru hums. “Not my birthday.”

“After the Free skate? Before the banquet.”

“France had no banquet,” Yuzuru points out, a bit grumpy because it still irks him how poorly organised that whole event was.

“Yeah, I remember,” Shoma says flatly. “I just don’t want everyone at this one acting like it’s our anniversary party.”

“Fair. So...10th?” Yuzuru pitches. Shoma nods in agreement and settles down onto his forearms. Yuzuru feels like now is a good time to arrive at his real point.  “There’s something else.”

Shoma just tilts his head with an adorably quizzical expression. Yuzuru chews his lip. It was an...awkward thing to bring up, but as the competition neared, it was something that Yuzuru became more and more concerned about. After all, he’s a perfectionist, and the idea of putting out a lousy performance bothered him. Even if that performance was just pretending to be involved with Shoma for his mother at some point after the competition.

“This plan to have your mom catch us kissing. You’re still okay with it, right?”

Shoma’s brow furrows. “Yeah?”

“I thought—It’s just that…” Yuzuru stumbles over his words and huffs out a breath. There are certain things Yuzuru really sucks at talking about. This is one of them. It was one thing to make bawdy jokes and wind people up, it was another entirely to get real about physical intimacy or his depressing lack of experience. There was really no way to make this not-embarrassing. He looks down at his lap, away from Shoma. “I’ve not exactly kissed many people.”

“Me neither.”

Yuzuru peeks at Shoma through his lashes just in time to see a shrug of his shoulders. He doesn’t seem bothered. The tone of his voice flat like it just doesn’t matter at all. Yuzuru straightens up, leaning back against the wall and sighs. “Won’t that kinda give us away?”

Shoma bites back a stream of giggles behind a smirk. “I don’t think she’s going to watch and give us marks out of ten.”

“You know what I mean,” Yuzuru huffs, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. “If we look awkward she’ll be more suspicious instead of less.”

Silence stretches out between them. Yuzuru looks back down once a few seconds have passed. Shoma glances up at him, chin propped up on his hands, feet stuck up in the air behind him but not swinging anymore. He has that look on his face he gets when he’s thinking; the crinkle in his brow and a little pout of his bottom lip. It almost makes Yuzuru want to laugh because it’s such a ridiculous expression, or pinch Shoma’s cheeks because he’s so cute.

“I guess we could...practice?” Shoma mumbles slowly, big, doe eyes turning away. “Try it now, so it’s less awkward later?”

Yuzuru can feel his face flushing. Of course, he had already thought of this and came to the same conclusion — if they are going to do this, and are going to kiss as part of an act even once, they’d have to ‘practice’ at some point. Do it on their own to break the ice, to make it something they could turn to whenever needed without becoming painfully uncomfortable afterwards. It was a relief that Shoma had come to the same conclusion without Yuzuru needing to lead him to it or say it himself. Not that he couldn’t bring it up. He could have. But at least he knows they are on the same page and it’s not something he’s pushing Shoma into when Shoma doesn’t really want it. Yuzuru bobs his head, swallowing hard to chase away the sudden dryness in his throat. “Yeah. Okay. Now?”

“Might as well.” Shoma wiggles up the bed, flipping around and ungainly hauling himself up to sit next to Yuzuru. He turns his head to shoot Yuzu a cheeky smile. “That’s why you came, right?”

“No!” Yuzuru lies, flustered. Shoma just laughs. Yuzuru playfully jostles Shoma with his elbow. “Shut up. Come, turn to face me.”

They shuffle around on the bed until they are facing each other. Yuzuru is cross-legged and straight-backed while Shoma has his legs tucked up beneath him. They both hesitate. Yuzuru wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t done this much and he isn’t sure where to start. Plus he’s extra scared of spooking Shoma by going too fast, which is not helped by the fact that Shoma is looking at him like a nervous rabbit and chewing his bottom lip.

Yuzuru scoots forward, closer to Shoma, and puts his hands on his shoulders. “Stop biting your lip or I’m going to be kissing your teeth.”

Shoma releases his lip from between his teeth. “You look like you’re going to headbutt me.”

Yuzuru can’t help but to giggle nervously, aware of the weird tension in his neck and shoulders and trying to let some of that go. “Okay,” he breathes out, rolling his neck from side to side and pitching his weight forwards, just a little bit.  “Ready?”

Shoma gives a short, determined nod. “Yup.”

So, Yuzuru leans forward and presses their lips together. It’s short and stiff. Yuzuru still has both hands on his shoulders, as if holding their bodies apart because getting too close seems like it would be too much, so the only real point of contact is their lips. Only Yuzuru isn’t really sure he’d call it a kiss because nothing about it is romantic or sensual and it lasts about three seconds before Yuzuru pulls away.

Shoma grimaces at him as if Yuzuru has just dropped a dead fish in his lap. “You’ve kissed someone before, right?”

Yuzuru splutters indignantly, pulling his hands back from Shoma and sitting back. He can’t really argue because, even if he has only done this a grand total of twice, he knows that was terrible. “Yes!”

“Who?”

“Some boy at a training camp when I was a junior. Things like that.” Yuzuru gives a sullen shrug, realising it sounds like he hasn’t kissed anyone since he was a junior, which was at least eight years ago. His experience is almost non-existent but not quite that dire. “Have you?”

“Yeah?” Shoma says as if it’s a bizarre thing to ask because _of course_ he’s kissed people. “I’ve fooled around with a few guys at campus parties. One girl. Just to see if I maybe wasn’t…” Shoma trails off and closes his eyes for a moment, and it punches Yuzuru in the gut because it’s just sad. That Shoma tried. But Yuzuru had been there too. He remembers staring at Maia thinking to himself that she’s pretty. He would wait, willing himself to feel something and always being crushed when he’d be forced to accept for a hundredth time that, while he has functioning eyeballs and can see Maia is a beautiful girl, looking at her never came with the sort of feelings he got whenever he looked at her brother. Maia is gorgeous, but Alex is the one to ring Yuzuru's bells.

Fooled around. Yuzuru runs that phrase through his head. It’s hard to imagine Shoma ‘fooling around’ with anyone. It’s hard to picture him at a college party at all. Though maybe he was dragged there by a friend, had a couple of drinks. Perhaps then, Yuzuru can imagine Shoma pressed up against a wall in a darkened hallway. Fooling around, though, suggests more than just a kiss.

“Have you...had sex?” Yuzuru asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“I’ve done stuff,” Shoma answers, a bit stiffly. “You?”

“I moved to Canada before I even left high school and I don’t hook up at competitions since I’m closeted—”

Shoma holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m not judging.”

Yuzuru sighs. He supposes this is a time for honesty. If they are going to pretend to date and make out with each other, they should at least know each other’s history. Besides, Yuzuru is aware of how lame he sounds. “There was one person.”

Shoma tilts his head to the side like a curious puppy, and Yuzuru really isn’t sure if he really wants to divulge this but goes ahead and does it anyway. “Okay. Don’t laugh. But...Me and Keiji fooled around once.”

Shoma chokes and splutters. “ _What_!? When?”

“It was ages ago! We were like...eighteen? He was curious and—” Yuzuru waves his hands, gesturing as rapidly as he talks. Shoma’s moderately horrified expression is so amusing it’s almost worth the embarrassment of ever admitting this happened. Not that Yuzuru was ashamed. “We didn’t do much and we never tried anything again. It wasn’t bad. It just was an experiment that didn’t need repeating.”

That was a fair review, Yuzuru thinks. They kissed, they laughed, they felt each other up, they never talked about it ever again. Not exactly the night of wild passion Yuzuru sort of wishes it could have been. More like they got bored and thought it’d be an excellent way to pass the time. Still, it could have been much worse. And Keiji was mature and reasonable enough to not have the fact that they had not just seen each other naked, but also touched each other, affect their friendship. That was part of Keiji’s charm, after all.

Shoma makes a soft, vaguely distressed sound. “Keiji is so...straight though.”

Yuzuru tosses his head back and laughs. There are a few things he could say. Something about noodles being straight until you cook them, or a million other stupid jokes. He settles on “a hand is a hand.”

Shoma is lost for words and just makes a series of incoherent and distantly disgusted noises. Keiji is like a brother to him, Yuzuru understands why it might be hard for Shoma to hear about Keiji’s first-and-last bi-curious hook-up.

Yuzuru wonders if it’s weird for Keiji to now hear that Yuzuru is dating Shoma. He doesn’t think for even a second that Keiji would be jealous or anything like that, but it must be a bit strange. Though, figure skaters tend to be a tight-knit group with restricted social circles. One person going from one friend to another isn’t exactly rare. God knows ice dancers messily inter-date all the time.

Yuzuru waits for Shoma to recover from the shock, though he still looks like he’s smelt something horrible before he leans into the real tragedy of his total lack of love life. His hands fidget where they rest on his knees, toying with the fabric of his training pants. “I’ve never done anything with anyone else. It’s hard. I haven’t had any opportunities but even if I did I’d get scared.”

Shoma’s expression softens. He places a hand on top of Yuzuru’s, stilling the fingers where they had been drumming against his knee. Yuzuru looks at Shoma’s hand over his, then raises his eyes to meet Shoma’s earnest gaze. “I get it. The guys I’ve hooked up with, I never talked to them afterwards. I get scared they’ll see something and realise I’m a public figure and out me to a magazine or something.” Shoma looks down for a moment, lashes fanning out prettily against his cheek. His thumb strokes over Yuzuru’s knuckles as he lifts his eyes again. “At least we don’t have to worry about that from each other.”

It’s a powerful combination; the words, the way Shoma’s voice comes out soft and airy, the way he looks at Yuzuru through his lashes with his hair curling over his forehead and his lips pulled into a shy half-smile. It knocks the air out of Yuzuru. Makes his stomach flip and his heartbeat quicken.

“We should try again, right?” Yuzuru asks, hoping to sound casual. He’s not casual. He wants to kiss Shoma. Right now. A lot. He is also dimly aware that he’s not supposed to want to kiss Shoma and that Shoma absolutely cannot know that Yuzuru really, really, really wants to. It’s one thing, to say that you are dating and kiss because you need to sell a story. It’s something different to kiss because of want. Yuzuru came up with this whole plan, this whole lie was his idea, and Shoma went along with it because Yuzuru sold it as two friends helping each other out and it means nothing. Shoma trusts Yuzuru not to mess up their friendship. It all kind of hits Yuzuru when Shoma nods and closes his eyes.

How can he kiss Shoma now, in a way that would be comfortable and natural and good for their plan, but not give Shoma any hint that, right now, his motive isn’t quite so honest? Yuzuru doesn’t want Shoma to think he’s a creep who created his whole situation to take advantage. That hadn’t been his intention. It’s not his fault Shoma is just...good at the flirting stuff. A lot. And kind of naturally alluring, in a weird way, without really trying…

Yuzuru really wants to wrap his arms around Shoma and pull him in close, so decides that is precisely what he will not do. The fear of seeming too into it, of giving away that he’s not pretending as much as he should be and making Shoma feel betrayed and used and manipulated is much stronger than the desire to just go for it and enjoy the fact he has an excuse to touch Shoma. His hands wind up pressed against Shoma’s front, one close to his collarbone and the other flat against his chest. There for balance, not to hold or feel or relish in any way. He leans forward and brings his mouth to Shoma’s again. This time barely touching at first, just the barest amount of pressure because he didn’t move close enough and his shoulders and neck are rigid with the effort to hold back from the temptation to just drape himself all over Shoma the way he wants to.

“Loosen up,” Shoma huffs, scooting himself forwards.

“Am I bad? At kissing,” Yuzuru whispers back.

Shoma smirks against Yuzuru’s mouth in a way he feels more than sees. It sends a jolt down his spine and across his belly. “I don’t know yet.”

Yuzuru isn’t sure what to do with that. So he tries again. This time he’s halting, hesitant, still awkwardly keeping a swathe of space between their bodies. He’s more aware of how dry and cracked Shoma’s lips are, how the rough edges of broken skin catch against his lips. It’s an odd sensation, not entirely unpleasant. Shoma seems frustrated that Yuzuru’s position doesn’t allow for much pressure and the hands on his chest stop him from moving in too much to create it himself.

“You’re too stiff,” Shoma mutters. Yuzuru huffs and pulls back again. He knows, he _knows_ , he is being stupid and doing this all wrong. He knows this is not how anyone should kiss anyone, and his pride is wounded that instead of putting out a good performance right now, he’s making himself seem beyond sexually incompetent. To Shoma. Who Yuzuru would really like to impress.

Shoma huffs as Yuzuru sits back, frowning. “Does the idea of kissing me disgust you or something?”

Yuzuru nearly laughs, because the problem to the exact opposite. “No—”

“Then why are you acting like you’re being forced to kiss a dirty monkey ass or something?” Shoma asks harshly. Yuzuru is struck at how Shoma seems legitimately kind of hurt and guilt washes over him like someone just dumped a bucket of cold water over his head. “You’re holding me like you’re gonna push me away.”

“I just… I don’t want to freak you out.”

Shoma rolls his eyes. “You won’t. You can’t be scared to touch me now, and if you’re going to be like that, we might as well call the whole thing off.”

Yuzuru picks at the bedding sullenly. “We could just act like we’ve been taking it slow.”

“No one will believe that.”

“Why not?”

Shoma looks away shiftily, but Yuzuru can still see that he is turning pink. “If we were really dating, I wouldn’t want to wait. Everyone knows I’d climb you like a tree the first chance I got.”

Well, that makes Yuzuru perk up. He stops fiddling with the bedspread and lifts his previously slumped shoulders. “Yeah?”

Shoma tuts and shoots him a somewhat tired look. “You’re hot. You know that,” he deadpans. Maybe trying a bit too hard to sound impassive. “That’s why you wear those training clothes that make your ass look—”

“You look at my ass?” Yuzuru preens, a grin spreading over his face.

“Everyone looks at your ass. Especially when you had that awful purple costume. If we started dating while you were wearing that…”

Yuzuru touches Shoma’s thigh without thinking. “You got really handsome that year too.”

“See? You don’t have any problems touching me normally,” Shoma says, gesturing at Yuzuru’s hand. “Don’t be weird about it when we kiss.”

“This isn’t awkward for you?”

“It is.” There is an unspoken ‘of course’ somewhere in there. “But. It’s with you. Most things I find awkward are easier with you.” Fondness pangs in Yuzuru’s chest. He could have sworn that at one point, being around Yuzuru made Shoma about two-hundred-percent more uncomfortable in social situations, so to have Shoma say that Yuzuru actually makes him feel better about things is kind of incredible. Shoma blows out a breath. “Okay, how about, I try kissing you instead?

“Okay.”

It’s unfair that Shoma is better at this than him, Yuzuru thinks somewhere in the back of his head. Because Shoma doesn’t jitter as much as Yuzuru did, he just leans forward and does it.

It wasn’t like Shoma is perfectly smooth and controlled, or particularly confident. Yuzuru can still feel hesitation and uncertainty as their mouths meet. Shoma just wasn’t being a _total baby_ about it the way Yuzuru had been.

Shoma starts off soft, slow, tentative, possibly for Yuzuru’s benefit given how skittish he was acting. He brings a hand up to rub at the back of Yuzuru’s neck to chase away the tension there. He gets an arm around Yuzuru’s waist and holds onto his back firmly until Yuzuru relaxes and doesn’t feel like he’s going to flinch away from the closeness anymore. It’s a bit more difficult for Yuzuru to figure out where to put his hands, what to do with them. Especially when it turns out Shoma’s sides are ticklish. But they adjust, ease into it, and figure it out until they are just kissing; relaxed, not overthinking it. Just learning things; like it’s nice when Shoma gets his fingers into Yuzuru’s hair and lightly scratches at his scalp. And it’s nice when Yuzuru catches Shoma’s bottom lip and gently tugs it with his teeth.

Shoma barely draws back a centimetre before he breathes out “Okay, now you take the lead more.”

Yuzuru dips in and kisses Shoma harder than he meant to, apparently harder than Shoma had expected either because he gasps against Yuzuru’s mouth. That’s just an opportunity, though, for Yuzuru to slip in his tongue and kiss Shoma deeper. That’s good too—having Shoma respond to him, let him in, have their tongues flit together. Yuzuru could do this for hours, it felt like. He wanted to just trade kisses back and forth until they both forgot why they were kissing in the first place, until the reason why didn’t even matter. He wanted to press closer to Shoma, push him back into the bed, crawl on top of him and kiss him even more.

That doesn’t happen, though, because Shoma gradually gentles the kiss and withdraws. His lips are puffy. Red. Wet. His eyes are dazed. Yuzuru can get a little kick out of that, at least.

“I think we’re good now,” Shoma says, a bit dozy.

“Oh. Yeah.” Yuzuru straightens up, clears his throat. “We should be convincing, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure.” Shoma turns, throwing one of the pillows against the headboard before turning to sit against it, legs stretched out in front of him. Yuzuru copies him, so they are sitting side-by-side again. Shoma jiggles his legs. They probably went numb from how he was kneeling. Oops.

“So, I’m the first person you’ve kissed in, what, five years?”

Yuzuru scowls at him. He’s right, and that is just annoying. “Shut up.”

Shoma grins “Still want to know if you’re bad?”

“Shut up~!”

Yuzuru punctuates his whining by grabbing the pillow from behind his back and swinging it to whack Shoma in the chest. Shoma huffs grabs his own pillow and throws it at Yuzuru’s head.

It escalates into a full-blown pillow fight as rapidly as anyone might expect. In mere seconds they are both up on their knees, brandishing their pillows trying to get the best hit without actually running the risk of really hurting each other. Yuzuru ducks and yelps, bouncing down the bed on his knees to escape one of Shoma’s blows, then dives towards him against to make his own attack. Shoma grabs the pillow and pulls it towards himself, bringing Yuzuru with it. They grapple for a moment, Yuzuru straddling Shoma’s knees, resisting having his weapon taken away from him. But Shoma plays dirty and tickles just beneath his ribs.

Yuzuru lets go of the pillow with an undignified screech and falls forwards against Shoma’s chest, giggling helplessly into his neck. Shoma lets go of the pillow so he can use both hands to tickle Yuzuru’s sides, laughing at the way Yuzuru thrashes. Yuzuru grabs his wrists to get him to stop so he can catch his breath.

One moment, Yuzuru is panting heavily against Shoma’s neck. The next, he’s on his back with Shoma looming over him, playfully wrestling to get his hands free.

“Shoma~” Yuzuru groans tiredly.

“This is payback,” Shoma tells him, wiggling his wrists out of Yuzu’s grip. “For all the times you’ve tickled me at galas.”

Yuzuru can just about get a feeble “nooo~” before Shoma’s fingers are back on his sides and he’s laughing again, squirming under Shoma’s body.

“Aa! Shoma, please, I’m gonna die~!” Yuzuru gasps. Shoma must remember that it’s an actual possibility to tickle Yuzu right into an asthma attack because he stops and flops down next to Yuzuru with a huge, bratty grin.

“Well, I don’t want that.”

Yuzuru huffs out a weak laugh and closes his eyes to catch his breath. They needed that — something stupid and fun after making out to wash away any weirdness.

“You’re not, by the way.”

Yuzuru cracks open an eye and turns his head to look at where Shoma is lying beside him. “Huh?”

“You’re not bad,” Shoma says in a small voice, rolling onto his side to face Yuzuru properly. “At kissing. It was good once you relaxed.”

“You too.” Yuzuru blushes and looks back up at the ceiling. “I mean. I li—it was good.”

Yuzuru bites his lip, embarrassment building as silence stretches between them for a few beats. He shouldn’t have said he liked it.

“I can’t believe the only person you’ve hooked up with is Keiji,” Shoma mutters, breaking the silence. “That’s tragic. You should change that.”

Yuzuru snaps his head to the side. What the hell does Shoma mean by that? Is it an offer? Shoma just smiles at him in an annoying way that bares his teeth. Yuzuru doesn’t want to ask. He’s already come too close to making a total ass of himself to push it even further.

He reaches for one of the pillows and gives Shoma one final whack.

 

***

 

Shoma trudges onto the bus reasonably early. He had learned his lesson from last year — when he woke up late and had five minutes to get dressed and get his sleepy ass out of the hotel or risk missing the final practice before the competition. He set alarms on both his phones now, to make it harder to just hit snooze and sleep through until it was too late. It’s just the first official practice today, so it wasn’t hugely important for him to be perfectly punctual, but it’s better to get into good habits from the beginning than to slip.

It’s a bit surprising to see Yuzuru on the bus, though. Not because Yuzuru is usually tardy, but because Yuzuru often takes a car to venues nowadays, not the athletes' bus with everyone else. That wasn’t so much a perk of his status as it was a necessity; his entourage is large, and his fans are on the zealous side so he often needs at least one guard for moving around the venue and that is way easier to arrange if he arrives alone. Even with that, Shoma knows there have been incidents already this season of fans clogging up the halls and swarming around trying to get a close look at Yuzuru.

It’s difficult to not feel a bit awkward, considering this is really their first time occupying the same space after they started to lie about being an item. Even more so, because they spent a lot of last night making out with varying degrees of success. Shoma knows what Yuzu’s lips feel like now, how he gasps if you twist your fingers in his hair, what he tastes like. He feels like that should change something but it...doesn’t. Apparently, it didn’t change anything for Keiji, Shoma thinks a bit grumpily.

Yuzu looks drowsy, tucked into a seat with the window blind down and his earphones resting on his shoulders ready to be shoved into his ears. He looks up and smiles at Shoma when he sees him, though, and pulls his bag off the seat beside him onto his knee to make room.

Shoma takes the seat on offer, intending to ask why he’s on the bus and not taking a car, but before he can open his mouth, Nathan bounds in behind him and throws himself over the back of the seat in front.

“Shoma! High-five!”

Shoma lifts his hand to high-five Nathan but is perplexed as to why. Yuzuru just smiles pleasantly as of he finds it all very sweet.

“So,” Nathan drawls, grinning, propping his chin on the headrest to look back at the two of them. His eyes flicker between Shoma and Yuzuru. “Was last night some kind of tactic to throw me off my game?”

“What?” Yuzuru says with a quirk of his head, right as Shoma dumbly utters “huh?”

Nathan gives a sly smirk and drops his voice. “I live in college dorms. I hear people having sex so much I can drown it out. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Oh. That’s sad,” Yuzuru says full of pity. “You only hear?”

Nathan thins his lips and gives Yuzuru a look that only makes Yuzuru cackle.

Shoma frowns. His English isn’t great, so it takes him a bit longer to process, but he’s kind of stunned at the implication once he’s decoded it. “We not—No? Sex no?”

Nathan rolls his eyes. “Look, it’s fine, I heard you two are dating. I’m not going to blab it but...even if no one had told me...You make it kind of obvious when you’re banging loud enough for neighbours to hear.”

Shoma is lost. Nathan...Shoma likes him, but Nathan talks to fast and too much for Shoma to always grasp what he’s saying half the time. He glances at Yuzuru, hoping for clarification or a translation, but Yuzuru just shrugs.

“Anyway. Have a nice competition. Please fuck in a different room next time because hearing you is really weird.” Nathan smiles sweetly and, with that, swings himself out of the seat and carries on down the walkway to sit next to Michal, who waves at the two of them with a warm smile. This year’s final is an exciting collection; Michal and Sergei both on the older side, Junhwan barely 17 and Shoma clumped with Nathan and Yuzuru at all in a close enough age range. Shoma’s kind of sad that Mikhail and Boyang didn’t make it, even if Boyang mostly communicates through funny faces and Mikhail bonds with Shoma over not being able to understand Nathan.

Shoma turns back to Yuzuru, totally confused and a little bit mortified that anyone thinks they were having sex. Sure, Yuzuru had told him to expect people will assume they are having sex as a general concept, but it’s weird to have someone to have a specific incident in mind. “I guess he thought you being tickled was a sex thing?”

Yuzu shrugs again, far less concerned about it and, honestly, pretty amused.  “Whatever. I hope he complains to Jason about it.”

That just leaves Shoma even more confused. Why does Jason need to think they were having sex? But Yuzu puts his earphones in, so Shoma drops it and spends the trip to the venue playing on his phone.

 

***

 

Since the season started, Yuzuru had set some ground rules. Well, one rule, one that Shoma thought was a no-brainer— they would not mess with each other at all during competitions. Their fake relationship had to be somewhat suspended from the first practice, up to the end of the free skate. During that time they agreed to just act normal around each other, nothing performative, no extra time together, nothing that could possibly cause an unwanted distraction while they competed. Partially because of Yuzuru’s sensitivity to his surroundings, and partly due to the increased scrutiny both of them would be under on the ice and around the venue. It’s really obvious to Shoma that, even without saying it out loud, that would be the case but Yuzuru seemingly needed the confirmation.

So for a few days, they are more or less out of each other’s hair. Or at least, not actively going out of their way to make a show of anything. They give each other space and focus on their warm-ups, practices and physio same as usual, and chat at the draws and in locker rooms and on the bus as usual.

Shoma heads out onto the ice both times with a single thought: gold. Gold, gold, gold. He wants it. He has so many silvers from major competitions like this, and that’s great, but he wants the gold. Yuzuru’s presence in the competition is like something behind him pushing him forwards to do better because if Yuzuru skates well, he’s hard to beat. If he skates perfect, he’s impossible to beat. The problem is that no matter how much Shoma wants it, there’s a little part of him that just doesn’t believe he can do it. He skates and knows Yuzuru will be better than him, so he falls short. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, in a way. That half-a-thought of doubt holds him back.

Shoma makes a few mistakes. Yuzuru doesn’t. Shoma gets silver.

That’s not surprising. Not like Junhwan taking the bronze is.

Junhwan is grinning from ear to ear while they wait rinkside for the medal ceremony. Yuzuru bounces up to him and gives what Shoma assumes is a spirited congratulations before mimicking some of Junhwan’s choreography to make him laugh. Shoma smiles; it must be nice to have a rinkmate share the podium with you. Shoma only really gets to cheer for the girls at his rink, for now, it’d be cool to have one of the guys make the same competitions as him more.

Yuzuru looks over at him and meets his eye. He looks happy, nearly as happy as he did at Pyeongchang. Shoma feels a tug at his chest, and his smile grows a little bigger.

Podiums are always awkward. Shoma finds it hard to get up on the platform and spends most of the time looking awkward posing for the photos, but it’s nice to take a moment to celebrate that you got there. Junhwan’s palpable excitement to be on the podium at all reminds Shoma that he won silver more than he lost the gold. Losing sight of that achievement is easy.

“We’re in height order,” He whispers to Yuzuru when they all climb up to the middle platform. Junhwan just keeps growing — he towers over Shoma and is almost a head taller than Yuzuru. It's actually impressive how he's handled his growth spurts and the shifts in his centre of gravity.

Yuzuru giggles, and in synch with Shoma, makes a swooping motion with his arm that mocks the line they make stood beside each other, before leaning in a little closer. “Are we still doing weddings?”

“We didn’t last time?”

“That was Olympics though,” Yuzuru points out. They had to be on their best behaviour for the world stage, Shoma supposes. He had just thought that Yuzu was too distracted by Javi to carry on their little joke.

“Do you want to?” Shoma whispers, quickly before they run out of time.

“It’s tradition. If we don’t something bad might happen.”

Shoma rolls his eyes, but loops his arm through the space Yuzu makes anyway. Of course, this would get added to the list of Yuzuru’s weird little rituals. He rather likes the idea of Yuzuru thinking of it that way, though. Such a small gesture that started because Shoma got flustered, and continued because Yuzuru found it funny, now is something that makes him feel safe and calm. And it belongs to them, it’s just between Yuzuru and Shoma. No one else. In this, Shoma can’t be replaced. For this, Shoma is special.

Yuzuru tips his head back and laughs loudly. Shoma faces the cameras with a genuine smile.

 

***

 

Yuzuru watches as Shoma zips up his case. They have a short moment to gather their stuff and take a breath after the press conference, a little moment left more or less alone. Or at least away from the press, there are still other people around; coaches, other skaters and federation reps. 

The two of them sit on the worn wooden benches in the changing rooms while Yuzuru is waiting for his car and Shoma waits for the next shuttle bus back to the hotel. Yuzuru had been happy to take the bus to practices, but the federation had insisted he use the car for the competition. It let him slip in a little later than the others; when most of the spectators would be in the venue instead of loitering outside. It's kind of sad that Yuzuru can't always experience competitions in the same way the others do, the way he used to, but that was the price for success. Fame was the cost of his dreams. It came with benefits, and it came with downsides. The best thing to do is to not dwell on those negatives too much and just deal with it. Even if the private cars and bodyguards seemed excessive and oddly embarrassing, it was better than being swarmed by fans — or the fans of other skaters who didn't particularly like him — before a competition and either getting additional anxiety or getting hurt. 

Shoma flops to the side and lays his head on Yuzuru's shoulder. 

“Tired?”

"Mm." Shoma nods, lazily turning his head up to look at Yuzuru from what must be a really unflattering angle. "Congratulations."

Yuzuru pats his thigh. "You too. You did well."

"You watched?"

"No...But I heard your scores! So I knew you were good."

Shoma snorts. "I stepped out of my quad flip. Ugh. It was called under as well."

"I got an edge call on my triple," Yuzuru says airily. "Judges are being mean this season. My flip edge has been flat for ages."

Shoma chuckles and slips his hand on top of Yuzuru's. "I missed competing with you. It’s more fun with you here."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I skate better too."

Yuzuru's brain clings onto this happily. He's heard it before, that others find his presence motivating, but Shoma saying skating is more enjoyable with him around seems different. It warms his heart in a totally different way. He gives Shoma's thigh a light squeeze. "Competitions with you are my favourite too." He looks down at Shoma and smiles. "I like knowing that as long as I get on the podium, you’ll be next to me."

"You haven’t finished off podium in years," Shoma grunts.

"Neither have you."

Shoma lifts his head up off Yuzuru's shoulder and flashes a playful grin. "One day, maybe I’ll be in the middle."

"When it happens, I hope I’ll be on your right," Yuzuru says teasingly, but he really means it. It seems inevitable that at some point, Yuzuru will make mistakes where Shoma won't. There have been a few close shaves already. The sport is tough; with it so tight at the top, whoever skates best on the day wins, whoever makes the fewest mistakes gets the gold. No one can be perfect all the time. It's kind of unlucky for Shoma that the competitions where they've met so far have been ones where Yuzuru was able to give his all for gold, or they had errors and Yuzuru just about stayed ahead.

Shoma's eyes flit around the room before he drops his voice near a whisper. “Your mom is looking at us.”

Yuzuru hums. “My car must be ready.”

Shoma glances around the room quickly, and Yuzuru's gaze follows. No one else is looking at them; Mihoko is talking to the JSF reps in the hallway, Yuzu’s coach is humouring a very excited and bouncy Junhwan, the press have gone and aren’t allowed in the locker rooms anyway and anyone else there is either packing up a bag or otherwise preoccupied. Only Yuzu’s mom is looking at them.

Yuzuru doesn't really understand the significance of that until Shoma leans forward and kisses Yuzu’s mouth. Just a soft, lingering peck. It takes Yuzuru aback, and Shoma looks like he's trying not to laugh at the look on Yuzuru's face.

“You don’t have to do that,” Yuzuru tells him quietly. Yuzuru wonders if it's strange that his mother has not been anywhere close to as suspicious and meddlesome as Shoma's. Maybe Toronto rubbed off on her, or it's just easier for her to care less without other Japanese mothers around her. It might even just be a class thing. More affluent families tend to be weirder about setting up their sons with the daughters of other wealthy families. His family isn't quite there, not the way Shoma's is. She doesn't really need a show.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t hurt, does it?” Shoma whispers back lightly, drawing Yuzuru's hand into his. “Extra practice before the main event.”

“I guess.” Yuzuru laughs. “What’s the plan?”

“I left my jacket with her, Itsuki will get her to bring it up to me after dinner or something.”

Yuzuru wrinkles his nose. Jackets aren't that important. They only have the gala left, and Shoma has other training clothes to wear, she could just leave it until the event is over. “Would she bother?”

“I left my venue pass in the pocket.”

Ah, well, that's a bit more important. “Won’t that stop you getting on the bus?”

Shoma shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” Yuzuru nods. He is about to turn to face his mother, see if she gestures for him to move, but Shoma leans forward and kisses him again.

This time he lingers, lifts a hand up to Yuzuru's neck and angles his face closer. Yuzuru kisses back, feels the drag of Shoma's lips against his, touches Shoma's cheek and lets himself be drawn in. Eyes closed, time suspended for the span of soft breaths and steady heartbeats. 

There's a loud burst of laughter from elsewhere in the room that shakes Yuzuru awake. He pulls back enough to shake his head. The tip of his nose brushes against Shoma’s. He wants to press their foreheads together and stay there, but it’s the wrong time. The wrong place. “Not here.”

Shoma nods and straightens up. His fingertips brush against Yuzuru's skin as he withdraws his hands. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.” Yuzuru looks over at where his mother is leaning against the door. She raises an eyebrow at him and jerks her head back to silently tell him to move. Yuzuru stands up and gets a hold of his case. “Message me when you’re back at the hotel?” Shoma nods again, and Yuzuru scampers away.

“I saw that,” His mom whispers when Yuzuru gets to her. She's smiling, her eyes are teasing. Yuzuru is washed with a warm feeling of love and gratefulness for that. Not all parents would be so cool after seeing their son kiss their boyfriend, but Yuzuru supposes she's always been special.

“No one else was looking, right?” He asks, a little hastily. He knows Shoma had looked around to check both times, but kissing in a room where other people could look at them still made Yuzuru nervous. Even if the federation reps are still in the hallways, bidding polite goodbyes as Yuzuru passes them. Even if the only other people in the room were a few other skaters, coaches with their backs turned...

“I don’t think anyone else saw,” his mom shakes her head. That calms Yuzuru a bit. She looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Do you always look at each other like that? I’m surprised I never noticed before.”

“We were hiding before.”

Her smile falters, and she holds onto Yuzuru's wrist to get him to slow down and look at her. “I know it’s exciting to have people know and I think it’s so good for you to be more open about it,” she says gently. “But, be more careful.”

“I will.”

She lets go of his wrist and picks up the pace again, heading towards the back exit where the car is waiting for them. “You are very cute together.” She turns to smile fondly. “He is clearly completely enamoured with you.”

Yuzuru's interest piques; he wants to know what she sees in Shoma that makes her think that. “How can you tell?”

“Oh, just the way he is around you," She says, irritatingly vague. “Every time you so much as look in his direction, his whole face lights up. It’s adorable.”

 

***

 

Having Itsuki on his side is great, Shoma decides. When he gets back to the hotel, he has time to shower and eat because he's set everything up with Itsuki in a secret chat they can delete later, ensuring Itsuki won't 'discover' the lanyard in Shoma's jacket until after dinner. Yuzu is punctual, coming over right when Shoma tells him to.

"Ok, Itsuki messaged me to say he’s herding her to my room now," Shoma explains once the door is closed and Yuzu is already heading to the bed to sit down, his shoes neatly stashed beside the door. Shoma follows, dropping himself down next to where Yuzuru perches at the edge of the mattress.

Yuzuru wiggles his eyebrows. "Party time."

"Uh, sure." Shoma takes a deep breath. "Let’s do this."

The angle is awkward. Sitting next to each other was fine in the locker room because it was just a couple of short kisses, but it does work so well now that they have to do a bit more. The twist of their bodies keeps them too distanced, Shoma's neck aches a bit, and Yuzuru doesn't seem sure of where to put his hands. It's okay, probably fine for his mom to walk in on, but Shoma finds it hard to get the kind of momentum they need to keep it up for long enough for her to get here. He has no idea where she is or when she'll walk in, but he figures they need to kiss for at least a few minutes for her to catch the elevator and get to his room. He's not sure if he can like this. He's too distracted by the tension in his neck and the twist at his waist.

"This isn't working," Shoma huffs against Yuzuru's cheek.

Yuzu makes a small sound of agreement and pulls back and wiggles so he's more on the bed. Shoma watches as he moves the pillows up against the headboard and leans back on them. Not sitting up totally straight, more reclining against them with his legs out in front of him. "Come here."

Shoma shuffles towards him, not sure what Yuzuru is thinking until he catches Shoma's arm to tug him closer, then his hip, to draw him in. "Get on top of me."

"Really?"

"Come on. The angle from the door is better," Yuzuru urges. So Shoma moves, straddling one of Yuzuru's thighs. Yuzuru adjusts, sitting up a bit more. His hand stays on Shoma's hip while the other comes up to his neck. Shoma knows they don't have time to get too comfortable and work this out, so he leans forward and kisses Yuzuru again. His hands are caught awkwardly around Yuzuru's chest, but he can always move them later. 

The angle is undoubtedly better. It's easier to get into a rhythm, to fall onto it and get comfortable. Maybe too easy. Shoma moves his hands up to Yuzu's shoulders, one continuing up, stroking his neck before slipping back into his hair. Shoma feels Yuzuru's tongue flit against a spot where his bottom lip has split, as if to soothe it, so he parts his lips to let Yuzu in.

Yuzuru is kissing him a lot more confidently now than he was the first time they tried. Clearly, they had really needed that practice to melt some of Yuzuru's anxiety. His hands roam over Shoma's back naturally; as if Yuzuru is barely thinking about it at all and just letting himself feel, finding the position that's the most comfortable. He's kissing Shoma like it's real. And for a moment, Shoma forgets it's not. He lets his body move closer to Yuzuru's, lets his spine relax and his hips pitch forward. Shoma responds to every tease of tongue, every tug at his lips, every shift of angle and nip of teeth. The kiss is a lot hotter, dirtier than it needs to be and Shoma doesn't notice until it's too late. There's already a heat driving low in his belly, he's too caught up.

Yuzuru slips down the bed, just a little bit, Shoma is pulled forwards. Their hips bump against each other, Shoma's thigh pressing between Yuzuru's legs. He almost groans when he brushes against Yuzu and feels the soft sigh from Yuzu against his lips. Shoma feels a kick of arousal tight at his hips. 

Yuzuru shifts, bending his knee slightly and raising the thigh that is already slotted between Shoma’s legs. This is awful. It’s hard not to gasp and press down against it, which is Shoma’s first instinct. When he tries to move his weight back, or do something so he’s not quite riding Yuzuru’s thigh, he just loses balance and ends up pressing up against Yuzuru even more.

Oh God, Yuzuru’s going to notice. He’s going to notice that Shoma is trying to wiggle away to get some distance between their bodies again and he’s going to realise it’s because Shoma is pressed up against him and getting too worked up. Shoma opts instead to go on the defensive, to relax his body and let it happen because struggling to get up now is just going to be more awkward. He sucks and Yuzuru’s bottom lip, tugs on his hair and slips his tongue into his mouth in a way that is guaranteed to totally distract Yuzuru from anything Shoma may or may not be doing unconsciously to his thigh. Sure enough, Yuzuru moans deep from the back of his throat and twists his fingers in the fabric of Shoma’s t-shirt.

Shoma’s not hard. Not yet. Because he’s not fourteen and they’ve not quite been making out for that long, it just feels like it’s been forever. But if his mom doesn’t bust in the room within the next minute or so, he will be, and that was _not_ the fucking plan here. Shoma had thought they’d kiss and it’d be chaste and romantic looking, maybe, and his mom would catch them and think they were cute and in love. The kind of the show Yuzu’s mom got. That was not how this was going. Not with the way Yuzuru keeps making little, choked-back noises and squirming against Shoma’s hip.

Shoma tries to dial it back — without totally breaking since they still needed to be doing something to be walked in on —  but Yuzuru lets out a string of soft whimpers. The hand he had on the small of Shoma’s back presses down to pull him in closer and Shoma loses his breath for a second while he accidentally grinds down against the firm muscle of Yuzuru’s thigh. So, at best, Shoma’s effort just results in a short pause to wetly pant against each other for air, and Yuzuru nipping at his lips impatiently until they pick up from where they left off. Escalating, even.

Yuzu slides his hands up the back of Shoma's t-shirt, finger tripping over the flare of his ribs and the muscles that are tight at his shoulders. This is happening, and Shoma isn't sure if he should be letting this happen but he sure as hell isn't going to stop it. 

Shoma runs his hand out of his hair, down his neck, down his chest. He can feel the rise of his pecs, the hardness of abs through the cotton. He keeps going, fingertips skimming where his top had ridden up, touching the soft skin there, running into where the slightest hint of hair begins. Yuzuru’s nails scrape over his shoulder blade. Shoma's t-shirt is pushed up almost to his armpits, Yuzu's other hand travelling back down to the small of his back. He stops right above the waistband of Shoma's sweats. So very close to grabbing Shoma's ass. Shoma thought he would, for a moment. He kinda wants him to.

Shoma is thinking about the photos Yuzuru sent weeks ago — that he absolutely has never, ever jerked off to at three in the morning with his bedsheet pulled over his head and his pillow stuffed in his mouth. Shoma can picture Yuzuru like that now, underneath him, in full and brilliant colour. Stretched out on the bed, lips swollen and wet and parted while he gasps for air. Waiting for Shoma to do anything. Anything he wants with him. Which is a lot of things.

It would be perfect, now, to push Yuzuru down onto the bed, tug his loose t-shirt off throw it on the floor and cover Yuzuru’s body. The only stopping Shoma from doing it is his last brain cell whispering that this isn’t real. They aren’t doing this just for the fun of it— it’s not like they are celebrating Yuzuru’s fifth almost-kind-of-but-not-consecutive GPF gold. It’s just part of the lie. Part of the game. Just for show.

Shoma is about to lose his last strand of sanity. He holds onto Yuzuru’s hip with one hand while the other comes to rest on his chest. His thumb swipes over where Yuzuru’s nipple is covered by thin cotton, and he feels the shuddered gasp that causes against his mouth. He’s just about to give in and push Yuzuru against the mattress when the door opens.

Five things happen at once. The door opens, Shoma’s mother gives a small, shocked shriek, Itsuki groans loudly, Shoma tears his mouth away from Yuzuru’s and turns so fast he nearly pulls a muscle in his neck — just in time to see Itsuki slam his face into the wall and his mother hold his jacket up over her eyes. Shoma really wants to ask Itsuki what the hell took them so long. He thought ‘on our way’ meant on their way up the stairs, not on their way to the hotel.

“Mom?” Shoma croaks. Oh god, this was a monumentally stupid idea. Shoma is half-hard, and his mom just walked in on him grinding his fake boyfriend’s leg while they make out. He wants a black hole the open up right beside him so he can be swallowed by the jaws of infinity.

Shoma's mom is pointedly looking away, flustered. "You forgot your jacket. Sorry for— I should’ve knocked—”

Shoma crawls off Yuzuru's lap and clears his throat, so his voice comes out less raspy. "It’s okay."

Shoma gathers some of the bedding in his hands and uses it to cover himself because the last thing he wants right now is for Yuzu to look over at him and realise he's half-hard. His face is burning. 

"I should leave," Yuzuru murmurs. Shoma looks back at him and regrets it because Yuzuru looks as wrecked as his voice sounds. His lips are pink and wet, colour high in his cheeks and his eyes are dark and glassy, hair a mess from where Shoma's hand had run through it and pulled and his soft grey t-shirt still hiked up to his navel and the neckline shifted so it almost exposes his shoulder. It's really, really, unhelpful to Shoma's effort to calm his body down.

"No, no. I will leave," Shoma's mom rushes out, still not looking towards them. Her eyes scan the room, settling on the coffee table in the middle. She shuffles towards it and places the jacket down. "I— I’ll just leave this here."

"Okay," Shoma whispers. He's never felt so uncomfortable in his life.

Itsuki lifts his head away from the wall and catches Shoma's eye, mouthing at him. ‘What the fuck?’ Before both her and their mother make a hasty exit. Shoma's mom reminds him, the most stilted he's ever heard him, to "please, lock the door".

Shoma squeezes his eyes closed as the door clicks shut behind them. The raging embarrassment has, at least, snuffed out the last remnants of his arousal. He releases the duvet he's been twisting on his lap.

Yuzuru flattens his hair and tries to sound positive. "That went better than I thought it would."

Shoma groans. "That was _awful_ I won’t be able to look at her for a week."

 

***

 

Itsuki looks over at Shoma with the shiftiest expression for possibly the twentieth time that morning. They had a family breakfast together. It was a bit sad that so many of their meals together lately were uncomfortable as all hell, but this had to be one of the worst since Shoma had come out to his parents. Not through lack of trying on their mom's part. She told Shoma all about where they planned to spend their day while they had free time in Vancouver, and asked about gala practices, asked if Shoma would like to join them ("I need to rest and do physio, sorry," was Shoma's answer, not that he could spend the day out with his mom until the mortification died down). Itsuki had followed Shoma up to his room on the understanding that he really didn't want to go shopping but would meet up with her later, and would make his own way back to their hotel when Shoma needed to go to physio since it was so close to where the athletes were staying.

"I just want to hang out with Sho a while," Itsuki told her sweetly. Lying little brat.

Now he was just sat on the coffee table, not wanting to go near the bed, and looking at Shoma really weirdly. Not saying anything until Shoma gets fed up and stops ignoring him.

He slams his phone down against the bed and swings his legs over the side to sit up instead of lying on his stomach. "What?"

"I hate that I had to see that," Itsuki hisses, gesturing towards the bed as if Shoma doesn't know exactly what he's talking about. "My innocent eyes have been tainted."

Shoma isn't sure if he's supposed to laugh at Itsuki's eyes being innocent — he's seen his brother's browsing history — or if he's supposed to apologise. He opts for neither. "Shut up."

"You are just pretending, right? You’re not...actually..."

"No! I mean yes? We are just pretending."

Itsuki stares at him doubtfully. "Uh huh."

"It had to be convincing," Shoma insists, knowing he sounds desperate. "We should never have to do that again."

Itsuki smirks. "To get caught? Probably not. But do it just because you want to…"

"Itsuki…"

"Your tongue was all the way in his mouth, and his hands were in places I was not prepared to see them. I wanted to punch him." Shoma rolls his eyes. He doesn't think he's seen Itsuki throw a punch in his entire life. Sure, he's a hockey-playing jock, but not that kind. Itsuki frowns. "What? How would you feel if you walked in on some guy feeling me up?"

"That’s almost sweet," Shoma admits after thinking about it for a bit. Though it is different because if a guy were feeling up Itsuki, Shoma would doubt it would be consensual or that Itsuki would be enthusiastically enjoying it. Shoma shakes his head. The situation with Yuzuru was hardly regular either, and he shouldn't have been as enthusiastic as he was. But that's not the point. "It was nothing. We were only doing it for her to walk in so she’ll stop thinking I’m lying."

"Oh yeah, you totally hated it. I could tell from how you were on his lap."

Shoma throws up his hands and sighs. "How else were we supposed to do it?"

Itsuki shrugs and tilts his head, clearly enjoying himself a lot more now he can tease Shoma. "And I suppose the two of you never done it before?"

Shoma frowns and admits stiffly, "we practised."

"Oh my God, you are so lame," Itsuki says with a snort. "If you want to take the opportunity to ‘practice’ with him some more, go ahead but lock your door."

Shoma wishes he could stop himself from blushing, but he can't. What makes it worse is that he does want to kiss Yuzuru again, even if it is under the guise of practising and that feels fundamentally wrong, like he's taking advantage of the situation.

But then he remembers how Yuzuru mewled against his lips, how he shifted his body into Shoma's to get closer. Perhaps Yuzuru wouldn't mind. He might like it. He might want it too.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long!! ;A; I will try to write faster! I have a lot of stress lately as my big move from one country to another is coming closer and I'm excited but also just mentally in a weird place from it.
> 
> If you'd like to support me/urge me to update faster/help ease my stress you can buy me a coffee! haha my ko-fi is /jinawasseo. You're not obligated at all, of course, but it would help me out and pressure me into actually...writing when I can.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuzuru realises something that should have been obvious.

Red and gold. Yuzuru looks up at the line of flags on the wall from across the ice and sighs. The colours of the Spanish flag jump out at him. Javi’s colours. But he’s not here to skate under them. Yuzuru finds himself looking up at the flag from time to time, missing having Javi around, a kind of comfort that even if Javi isn’t there right now, there’s still a connection. He’ll come back. Either to Toronto or at ice shows in the summer.

“He’ll be back by the time you return from Nationals.”

Yuzuru starts at Brain’s voice breaking through his thoughts. “Yeah.” He holds his gaze up to the flag. “I miss him.”

It’s weird still, not having Javi there. Part of Yuzuru still expects Javi to wander in late, with his coffee and a cheeky smile that always melts away and is replaced by a look of complete focus as soon as he steps onto the ice.  He misses having a friend training with him. He likes Jason, but Javi has been around since Yuzuru’s first day in Toronto. There’s Junhwan, but it’s not the same. Javi is always a motivation to have around, a direct rival he can study and see every day and know he had to be better to beat. Not that Jason wasn’t competition, or Junhwan, or anyone but...Javi was special. No one could replace him.

“I know,” Brian says. Yuzuru can hear the gentle smile in his voice without needing to look at him. “Come on, we’ve only got three days before you fly out. Let’s make them count.”

Yuzu nods and heads off to practice. Not overly intense sessions, but focused and efficient to keep him in form and well prepared for Nationals. Determined to not be injured or sick in any way that will stop him from attending.

Yuzu is making it a priority to just get through the next few days without injury or illness. The regret of the past two seasons pushes him forwards. First flu, then his ankle, this year he won't have anything hold him back.

Yuzuru nods and removes his blade guards, bending to touch the ice before he steps out onto it. Three training sessions before he’d fly out for Nationals, not a lot of time but enough to keep his condition at a steady level. The sessions won’t be intense, or any longer than usual, because that’s not how Yuzuru works and not what he needs with so little time between competitions. Efficiency, effectiveness and ensuring that Yuzuru would be going to Japan with a good image of his programs and elements sharp and fresh in his mind is his main focus.

Also, just...making sure Yuzuru makes it through the next few days without suddenly getting the flu or aggravating an injury. That’s Yuzuru biggest priority of all.

His blades whisper beneath him with every step, crisp and smooth when he sweeps back for his salchow, a soft _‘pa’_ as he lands. He glances down at the ice to see the markings left behind and smiles at the fresh crescents, clear against where the ice reflects the colours from the flags. White and red. Red and gold.

***

Yuzuru rolls his neck and taps his phone. Practice went well and his plans for the afternoon were simple; play some games, listen to some music, help his mom clean up, maybe watch one of his online classes, do a little image training and sleep but he’s stiff and sore and can’t really focus. Figure skating is hard on the body, it’s difficult to stay competition-ready for long and going from one competition straight into another with no time for recovery is rough, even with all the proper aftercare. Yuzuru flexes his feet under his desk and winces at the way his calves lock up. He needs a hot bath or something, to ease out some of that tension, and the sports massage guy to really go hard on him tomorrow. He groans to himself and taps around on his phone a bit more because he doesn’t really want to move quite yet. He needs to haul his training clothes out to be washed so he can start thinking about packing them and take the dish from his post-practice snack and smoothie out of his room and it all is just a lot of hassle. He hadn’t even really needed the snack, but he is _really_ dedicated to not getting sick or hurt in the next week so is following his nutrition plan to the letter.

Yuzuru scrolls through his messages. There’s the response from Javi saying exactly what day he’ll be back in Toronto, followed by some phrase Yuzuru doesn’t understand that doesn’t translate into Japanese at all and Yuzuru highly suspects Javi typed it wrong. He replies with a string of question marks, a cute sticker of a confused face and a heartfelt ‘can’t wait to train together!’. There’s one from Kobayashi Yuzuru has been ignoring for two months that he continues to ignore -- if it were really important, they’d contact Brian and get him to pester Yuzuru. He hasn’t, so Yuzuru assumes it’s nothing. There’s one from Ryuju that Yuzu can’t be bothered replying to, since they’ll see each other in a few days, and one from Keiji that gets the same treatment. And then, of course, Shoma.

He’d sent a photo, maybe one his brother took. He’s face-down on his bed with his legs kicked out behind him and his face fully pressed into his pillow.

 **>**   _I want to sleep for two years._

Yuzuru sniggers. They message almost every day, lately. Little things. Anything. They didn’t use to, but it’s good that they do now. Yuzuru’s never really had a friend he kept such close contact with before. He usually really sucks at this.

Pictures are a common thing now. Especially after Yuzuru had sent those suggestive photos back at the start of the Grand Prix. It’s more of an ongoing joke now. Yuzuru will occasionally send something that could be taken in some vaguely sexual way as a kind of tease and Shoma quips back. It really started becoming a ‘thing’ at some point between events. When Jason had talked Yuzuru into going out to eat with him, Evgenia, Juhwan and Conrad after practice with the help of Tracy who pointedly reminded Yuzuru he had mentioned wanting to ‘relax’ and ‘be less closed off’. They went for hotdogs and cheese fries. Not what Yuzuru should be eating mid-season but not exactly going to kill him either. Yuzuru saw the whole excursion as practice for when Javi came back so they could actually go out to dinner for once and Yuzuru wouldn’t be wracked with anxiety while they did.

Once their food actually arrived, Yuzuru got the idea to message Shoma about it. To kind of show that he does, actually, socialise -- a sort of counter to the little things Shoma sent on his semi-regular hangouts with college friends at billiards rooms. But also as the perfect opportunity to joke around. He sends a photo of his hotdog, taken at an angle to make it look larger than it really was.

> It’s so big! I don’t think it will fit!

Shoma wasted no time in responding. Apparently, Yuzuru had caught him at the right time, some time before practice but after he had actually woken up. A magic window where their time zones and schedules actually lined up.  


> _I dunno. I think your mouth is big enough._

Yuzuru could imagine Shoma’s deadpan delivery perfectly. He could clearly picture the cheeky grin that would inevitably follow, the way Shoma’s eyes would sparkle, teasing and mischievous. He laughed, and Jason had looked at him curiously, but Yuzuru decided not to share. This was part of their friendship, something between the two of them, not something they were doing for show. Yuzuru wanted to keep it that way.

***

The next one hadn’t been as successful as a joke or as a friendly attempt to flirt. It was one of those things where it seemed funnier in Yuzuru’s head than it ended up being. He had come out from his weekly checkup with his physiotherapist with a new compression sock for his ankle for him to wear at the final. He got the brilliant idea to take a picture of it and sent it to Shoma with the caption: ‘So tight~ feels so good~.’

‘ _Are you hurt_ ?’ Shoma sent back, a few hours later. Not amused, but worried and attaching an excess of sad-face emojis. _‘Did something happen at practice?_ ’

Yuzuru tried to assure him with a quick ‘Nah, I’m fine, I just have to use some support a little while longer.’

Still, they ended up having a conversation about the injury, the recovery, the physiotherapy. Shoma ended up calling him after a few messages back-and-forth because typing was getting to be a bit laborious. They talked for about an hour.

Shoma’s genuine concern for Yuzuru’s well-being was touching, and it was kind of...freeing to admit just how hard the process of recovery had been, and just how scared Yuzuru really was that at any moment all of his progress could be reversed and he could be left barely able to walk, nevermind skate. For as long as Yuzuru could remember, at least since he was fifteen or sixteen, the only person he allowed himself to be vulnerable with was his mother.

Yuzuru and Shoma had discussed difficult topics before, but even when they confided in each other about the struggles of being gay -- as Japanese men, as athletes, as public figures -- there was always a wall up to some degree.

At the time, Yuzuru was just pleased that Shoma was taking the jokes well, rather than being creeped out, and that they were becoming closer as friends. Thinking about it again, now, Yuzuru supposes this is a taste of what it would be like to actually be in a relationship.

He had never really considered before what it truly meant or what he was really giving up when he relinquished any semblance of a romantic life he never even began to have. He had accepted, at some point, that if he was going to be more than just an athlete but be the best, be everything he ended up becoming -- the light of Tohoku, the pride of Sendai, a symbol for Japan -- he would have to sacrifice parts of himself. He bloomed a little later than most, and once he did, Yuzuru already knew he could not casually explore his sexuality as it developed or really engage with it. He could not date or try to look for partners, and he could not hook up with anyone. He did that without knowing what he was sacrificing.

Intimacy. Having someone to turn to, having someone to trust. Having a friend who was more than a friend, who could be there for the lowest moments and the highest, to laugh with and play with and cry with. He had kept most of his friends at a distance, something Javi had already made him question a few times and outright confronted him over more than once. That something he already regretted and wanted to change but now he has this rapid shift with Shoma that has them drawing closer than he ever thought they would be, and it _hurts_.

He had dismissed dating as something he just...couldn’t have. Didn’t need. It just wasn’t a priority and would only get in the way of loftier ambitions. The trade-off seemed fair, the sacrifice seemed reasonable. If a boyfriend was just a friend you fooled around with...he was okay without it. A fumbled kiss at a training camp. One weird, giggly night with Keiji to blow off some steam, his own hand quick in the shower or with his face pressed into his pillow just often enough to get him by...His libido wasn’t particularly high, he could meet his own needs, and his career is more important. He was coping just fine without sex. It sucked, but he was fine.

He could still live without it, but making out with Shoma in Vancouver left Yuzuru less sure about being satisfied just coasting by. Sure, he could handle himself, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t really want _someone else_ to handle him. At some point. Sometime. Just occasionally.

This...thing with Shoma. It was just supposed to be a little lie. Just to shake off some pressure from their families but it had become a much larger production, and this closeness came along with it. Like a taste of what Yuzuru could have. If he stopped saying no. If he started allowing himself to want it.

It’s not real, but there are parts of it that are, and it’s the first time Yuzuru’s really had any kind of opportunity to explore what a relationship could be like, the first time he’s had someone to get this close to and joke with and flirt with. If Shoma is game...Yuzuru wants to play.

Yuzuru bites his lip and takes the phone with him into the bathroom. He really did need that bath, he might as well have a bit of fun with it.

He doesn’t send anything too salacious. Just his leg poking out from the water and bubbles. A bent knee, a bit of calf, a flash of thigh.

> I’m so wet ~ (・ω<)

Yuzuru carefully balances his phone on the edge of the tub, sniggering to himself. Maybe it's weird to flirt when it’s not a performance, and there’s no real reason for it, but they’ve been doing it for a while now. It’s fun. Yuzuru isn’t even sure if this even counts of flirting. Really he’s just teasing Shoma through kind of bawdy jokes. He always teases Shoma. It’s funny.

The hot water is perfect, leaching out the tension that was making his muscles ache. Yuzuru leans back in the tub, water gently sloshing around him, tips his head back and closes his eyes. He shouldn’t have thought about the kissing earlier, because now he can’t stop remembering the weight of Shoma on top of him, the way his skin felt, the way he tasted. Yuzuru had been uneasy, embarrassed, by how much he wanted to kiss Shoma and just how affected he was until he felt Shoma rock against his thigh. Then it was just exciting. Awkward, of course, given the whole reason they were doing it was to have Shoma’s mom walk in, but exciting.

Yuzuru’s phone buzzes to cut his thoughts short.

> _I’m not sure that one works..._

Yuzuru snorts, sinking a bit further into the water, holding his phone away from it carefully, tapping about his response one-handed.

> It does if you think about it.

It takes Shoma a while to message back, enough time that Yuzuru thinks he might have gone a bit too far, enough time for him to be out of the bath, towel-dried and dressed. He was probably just busy, though, because he replies eventually.

> _I guess you had a_ **_really_ ** _good bath, then. Don’t wear yourself out..._

***

The next instance of a dumb photo-caption combo is really, really dumb.

Yuzuru has a reasonably packed, though rather standard, day. Stroking class, physio, gym, and then a free practice slot where he’d run through his programs. Yuzuru’s gym sessions are cautious and light; mostly low-impact stuff. A bit of a warm-up, a few rounds with some weights despite Yuzuru really not wanting to bulk up too much, a bit of pilates and some stretching.

Yuzuru wheedles Javier Raya into taking a photo of him stretching out his hamstrings with the excuse of wanting to ‘check his form’ and make sure he ‘hasn’t lost flexibility’. Really he just thinks a photo of him with one foot flat against the mat and the other leg in the air, hands around the lower calf bringing it down towards his chest until he feels the muscle stretch is the sort of thing he should send to Shoma for a laugh. Who wouldn’t want to show off the fact that they can damn near put their legs behind their head?

He might put on a bit of a face, biting his lip for show as if holding the stretch is hard, just to really add to the final product.

“I think your form is good,” Raya says, putting Yuzuru’s phone down on the mat beside him. Yuzuru smiles sweetly, letting the muscle release.

“Thank you.”

He sends the photo and captions it ‘I want it harder~’ and finishing his stretches while he waits for Shoma to reply. He doesn’t get one until he’s on his way home.

> _What do you want harder? To stretch your legs?_

Yuzuru cocks his head and thinks.

> Sure, that works.  
> Or training I guess.

Is Shoma smiling now? Laughing? Yuzuru hopes he is.

> _You’re not good at this, you need to think more before sending.  
_ > _You know what you need to work harder on? Your high score. I’m beating you by 800 points~_

Yuzuru is mildly affronted at his ass being beat in the only game they share and being told he’s not good at...whatever these kinds of messages are. But he has to smile at Shoma teasing him in return. It’s only fun, after all, if they are both playing.

> You think you can do better than me?

> _Oh, yeah, definitely._

***

It’s almost 2am when Shoma takes up the challenge. Yuzuru is just winding down to get ready to sleep after his semi-usual burst of late-night gaming. If Yuzuru thought it was funny to send rather mundane photos with overtly suggestive messages, Shoma’s approach was more along the lines of suggestive content masquerading as being totally innocent.

He’s stood in front of a mirror, holding his phone to capture the reflection, just about showing the waistband of his sweatpants and everything up from there. He’s not wearing anything else and looks like he’s fresh from the shower; his hair is damp and curly, skin a little flushed and the slightest hint of moisture shimmering at the top of his shoulders where muscle rounds them out, the sweeping lines of his collarbones and where muscle cuts out lines on his abdomen. Softer than Yuzuru’s, but only a little bit. Shoma’s frame is a bit more robust than Yuzuru too. The phone covers half of Shoma’s face, but Yuzuru can see his head is tilted, one eye peeking out, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

> _Demi says our training is paying off. What do you think?_

Yuzuru huffs a small, breathy laugh. Well played. He almost wonders if this is payback for the photos Yuzuru sent weeks ago. Not that Yuzuru is going to complain.

> Nice.  
> I think I need more pics to give a full judgement though. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Yuzuru looks over the photo again. It’s really not been that long since Shoma has been working with this personal trainer, but it is fair to say there have been some pretty great results so far. Not that Shoma was anywhere close to out of shape before or anything. Yuzuru guesses he’s a mesomorph and really packs on muscle without having to go out of his way to try to get it, whereas if Yuzuru slacks off in his training and conditioning at all his muscle can disappear pretty quickly. But...Demi is certainly doing a great job of refining Shoma’s muscle mass, giving him a pleasing shape. The shoulders are getting a bit broader, but that just helps his sturdy waist look smaller and improving his proportions.

Yuzuru isn’t giving Shoma any praise, though. Not until he sends at least three more photos.

> _One should be enough._

Is Shoma’s argument. Yuzuru scowls.

> Boo! Just one more?  
> I need a better view of your abs ( ◞･౪･)

Yuzuru hesitates before sending but lets it go anyway. Maybe it’s too much. It’s hard to know. He isn’t sure where the line is when flirting with friends. He doubts Shoma is particularly embarrassed or shy about those kinds of comments, though, otherwise he wouldn't have sent a photo in the first place. Shoma might not quite crave and soak up praise and compliments the way Yuzuru does, but he still likes them. Everyone does.

> _Pervert  
_ > _When are you coming to Japan?_

> In a couple of days.

> _Maybe you can get a better look then._

Yuzuru smiles, teeth digging into his bottom lip, strangely giddy. It’s a joke, of course. It’s not real. For now, though, it’s close enough.

***

Yuzuru takes a few deep, heaving breaths and plucks his towel from his bag to wipe the sweat from his brow. Practice isn’t over yet, but Yuzuru needed a moment after running through his free program before he could get back out of the ice to work on the details. Evgenia plonks down beside him on the bench and groans. Yuzuru isn't the only one who needs a little break.

“This is last practice. Are you nervous? I am. I’m so nervous I feel crazy.”

“I always get nervous,” Yuzuru says with a short laugh. He tosses the towel back into his bag and sighs.  “I’m scared I’ll get sick on the plane and have to miss again.”

“You’ve been very good for not getting sick. You’ll make it this time.” Evgenia reaches over, naturally, and gives Yuzuru’s hand a squeeze. He smiles and returns it. They had been skittish around each other at the beginning of the season, with the Japanese media printing rumours of them dating and rather insulting suggestions that she had only moved to Toronto to pursue him based on some past-crush Evgenia might have had briefly, she very quickly got over.  Yuzuru hates that; people treating her like a silly, boy-crazy girl and not a serious athlete. He’s glad that awkwardness passed, within the privacy of the club at least.

“We’ll both do well.”

Evgenia screws up her mouth unhappily.  “I think I...won’t.”

Yuzuru gives her hand another squeeze. Russia is a difficult country to skate for, even more so as a woman. Crazily competitive. Russia pushes its young girls to extremes, producing scores of talent that would lead the field -- but only for a few years. Flashes in the pan, they’d spark in juniors and disappear in their late teens. Evgenia’s injuries last season had been a sign she was nearing her expiration date, her coaches would prioritise younger girls over her, and her career was doomed to end like so many girls before her; with a sad, slow fizzle into nothingness. She had watched it happen to others and saw it happening to her. That was why she moved to Toronto; to have a career that would last a bit longer and have half a chance for a second Olympics. She’s still struggling with her body, still regaining strength and still adapting to the change but while the process might be slow, the payoff will be worth it.

“You will do the best you can do now. And make yourself proud. That’s all that matters. And if you don’t feel proud yourself, we will all feel proud enough for you because we know how hard you are working.”

Evgenia nods and takes a deep breath. She lets go of Yuzuru’s hand, smiling at him brightly. “Hey. When you get there tell Wakaba she’s beautiful for me.”

Yuzuru rolls his eyes. “You talk to her all the time, you can tell her yourself.”

“I will, and I do. Every day,” she says, matter-of-fact as if daring him to doubt her. He doesn’t. “I want you to tell her too.”

“Why?”

Evgenia gives him a look. “When you’re with Shoma, you like making him smile, right?”

Yuzuru takes a sip of water and frowns. He doesn’t even need to lie for this one, making Shoma grin at him and crease up with laughter is one of Yuzuru’s favourite things to do.  “Yeah? His smile is cute.” Especially when his nose crinkles up and his eyes turn to crescents, Yuzuru thinks. That’s adorable.

Evgenia shrugs. “I can’t do that now, so you have to make her smile for me.”

“I will. I promise.” Yuzuru holds out his pinky to swear on it. He’s not sure what, exactly, Wakaba is to Evgenia, but he knows that it’s more than a friend. He sniffs,  “It’s sad both of you are recovering from injuries.”

Evgenia’s smiles disappears, her shoulders drop. “Yeah.”

“It’s okay. You’ll be strong together too.”

That does the trick because she brightens considerably and grins at him. “Yeah, we will!”

From the corner of his eye, Yuzuru can see Brian looking at them, tapping his foot. Brian doesn’t really yell, not like other coaches, but he is a master of the disappointed Dad routine, which Yuzuru thinks is way worse and far more effective.

“Good luck at Nationals,” Yuzuru says, getting up to return to practice. He might not get the chance to wish her luck later, now is a good time.

Evgenia follows, flattening flyaway hairs back down towards her ponytail. “You too.”

***

Packing suitcases with his mom before a competition is probably the most enduring parts of Yuzuru’s routine. Ever since his first international competition, he always sits beside her, watching as she gives his costumes an inspection to make sure none of the stones were loose and fixing up any parts that needed some attention. The older he got, the less his costumes needed touching up before they were slipped into garment bags and carefully stored away -- he got more careful, better at taking care of his equipment and clothing, and now he could afford to use designers like Satomi; as meticulous as she is skilled.

This was when Yuzuru used to babble nervously to her. He still does, really, even after so many years of doing this, each competition has its own stream of hopes and fears and, increasingly, pressures and expectations. He’s missed out of Nationals twice. His performance now will be watched with a great deal of scrutiny, with high expectations of him regaining the title of National Champion and a lot to be said whether he wins or loses. Despite this, though, he feels relatively calm. He’s mostly just focused on getting there and doing his best, but also getting to be around the others; the friends he doesn’t compete with regularly, the people who don’t cross his path anywhere else.

His mom hums, not looking up from where she’s folding her own clothes while Yuzuru rambles, nodding along. “You seem happier lately.”

“You think?”

“You’ve been happier since you told me…” She tilts her head, the ‘ _about Shoma_ ’ left unsaid.

Yuzuru knows what she means without any clarification. She tucks the blouse she was folding into her suitcase and lifts her gaze to his face, looking at him with the kind of open love only a mother can give.

“I know you have a lot of pressure… I can see some of that weight has lifted off you since you stopped hiding.” She pauses, a strange expression passing over her face like she wasn’t sure how to phrase her thoughts. “I was really getting worried about you. I thought you’d deny yourself forever and you seemed so lonely and sad so often. I was really relieved to hear you have someone. Even that it has been going on a while and you were scared to let people know. I’m proud of you for not being so scared now.”

Yuzuru’s stomach clenches. He almost squirms where he sits from the awkwardness and guilt from his mother buying into this lie so thoroughly and wanting him to know that it’s okay, she’s happy, she’s proud. He gets it. He understands why she would believe him. He doesn’t really talk to her about being interested in anyone or his love life and never has; there was no love life to speak of, and he didn’t allow himself to really be interested in anyone. Not actively anyway. Not anything more than crushes that lingered at the edge of his senses. There was no point, it wasn’t worth the energy. He talked to her about almost everything, but they still have boundaries. Some things, Yuzuru just doesn’t want to tell her. Some things, she doesn’t need to know or is better off not knowing.

So, she has no real reason to think he wouldn’t shut her out and not tell her about being in a relationship for two years until he couldn’t take keeping it a secret any longer. Above all, she wants to believe. She wants this to be true.

He never really thought that she would be pleased with him dating a man, not when she did the same thing Shoma’s mother did that pushed them into this position. She’d tolerate it, maybe, but he didn’t expect her to be happy. He always kind of knew she just didn’t want him to be alone, but there was always a part of him that questioned if she would ever accept him actually being with a man. Now he gets his answer, and it’s fake.

Yuzuru closes his eyes, imagines if it was all real. How would he feel, right now, hearing the same words, if all of this were real? He envisions it all -- the two years dating in secret, being scared of people finding out and how they would react, but he knows that the whole time he’d hate sneaking around as if he were ashamed. He thinks about how it would feel to finally come clean, to have his mother telling him now that she’s proud of him.

Yuzuru’s throat tightens. He wishes desperately that it could be real. Everything. He can take the acceptance and love from his mom, and it still has all the meaning in the world for him, but it’s tainted with the crushing guilt of lying to her. But it’s not just that. She’s right. He was lonely and the past two years have been difficult; recovering from one injury that could have ended his career only to quickly go and get another injury just as, if not more, serious. Imagining going through all that with someone supporting him, loving him makes Yuzuru’s throat burn, longing tugging at his chest.

He had gotten by on his own, but it hits him just how fiercely he doesn’t want to be alone. Even pretending to be with Shoma has taken away the empty ache that thrummed inside of him all the time.

“Shoma’s a nice boy. You should really have him over for dinner with the family sometime,” she adds primly, reaching for something else to pack. She’s almost done. She doesn’t need as much as Yuzuru, just a few changes of clothes to last a few days.

“We’re both too busy for that,” Yuzuru says, voice coming out cracked and quiet.

“You can make time. Maybe in the summer. I bet his mom wants the same.”

“His mom kinda scares me.”

She laughs. “I’ll tell her you said that.”

“No!” Yuzuru blurts out, eyes widening. Shoma’s mom is stricter than his own, from the way Shoma speaks about her. The few times Yuzuru has spoken to her, she’s been nice, but that could change now that Yuzuru is Shoma’s boyfriend. Or, at least, playing that role.

It hits Yuzuru again just how real this conversation feels.

She chuckles and closes up her case, standing and ruffling Yuzuru’s hair from her new vantage point. “Hurry up and finish packing. I’m going to make dinner.”

Yuzuru turns as she walks away, watching her head towards the kitchen. “Love you.”

Yuzuru can hear the fond smile in her voice when she calls back, “love you too.”

***

Flying is maybe the dullest part about competing. Yuzuru used to get nervous before flights, he doesn’t so much anymore, the only lingering anxiety is more to do with having everything he needs in his luggage or the fear that not all of his luggage will make it to wherever he’s flying to. His worst nightmare is to show up at a competition with his costumes or boots somewhere in limbo.

No one notices him as he makes his way through the airport, or when he is waiting to board the plane. That is the benefit of living in Canada, really, the sliver of anonymity he manages to maintain a lot of the time. He won’t have this kind of space when he lands in Japan.

Yuzuru finds a quiet corner to pull the mask off his face. 5 minutes before boarding starts. He tilts his head back against the wall, holding his phone up and looks into the lens, eyes half-closed, bottom lip pulled into his teeth, hair falling over his forehead. Perfect. He sends it to Shoma.

> I’m coming~

Yuzuru pulls his mask back over his face, ignoring the questioning look his mother shoots him.

> _YUZU!_

> What? I’m about to get on my plane.

Yuzuru smiles to himself, pleased. The message was just the right kind of misleading, the picture innocent enough but still provocative if given the proper framing.

> _I choked on my breakfast  
_ > _I nearly died  
_ > _Are you happy?_

Yuzuru reads over the messages a few times, imaging Shoma opening the photo and his reaction. There’s a rush of...power, he supposes. A pleasant buzz that comes with talking to Shoma, joking with him like this that’s addictive. Happy is, if anything, an understatement. Yuzuru grins.

> Yes  
> See you soon~

***

It’s funny, really, how Yuzuru hadn’t appreciated the social aspect to competition until he’d had time away from it all. Yuzuru buzzes around the halls where everyone ends up gathering before the draw, pleased to see both familiar and newer faces in the crowd. For the few that were missing, there was someone new. Or someone who had moved up to seniors since the last time Yuzuru was at Nationals, pleased to skate alongside him. Sota had mentioned, in the summer, looking forward to Nationals for this exact reason, hoping he could do well enough - recover enough - for them to share the ice. Yuzuru greets him warmly in passing, ruffles Shun’s hair -- delighted to be a senpai for another skater from Sendai, trades smiles with Satoko and wishes Mai luck when he spots her. Nationals is always a fierce competition, everyone fighting for opportunities to go to international events later and the chance of better funding if they do well enough and finish high enough, but that’s all competition against yourself. There’s still room to be friendly.

“Wakaba!” Yuzuru calls out once he spots her sweet, heart-shaped face. “Hi, how are you?”

“Better,” she says with a shrug. She pulls a face Yuzuru knows well, the sort of expression that means she’s not fully recovered from her injury, but good enough to compete.

“I just wanted to say good luck. Zhenya also wanted to say good luck. And, uh, you’re very beautiful.”

Wakaba laughs, eyes scrunching up cutely. “Thank you. Don’t worry, I won’t make you pass a message back.”

Yuzuru continues to flit about while more people arrive, while the news cameras set up and the federation reps prepare. He finds Daisuke, thrilled to see him for the pure novelty of a skater coming out of retirement and the nostalgia. It had been years since they competed together.

Dai looks at Yuzuru fondly while he wraps up one tangent, cutting in before he jumps onto another. “I thought you grew out of rambling at machine-gun speed.”

Yuzuru grins. It’s a bad habit, mostly out of nerves, but also because Yuzuru doesn’t have an abundance of opportunities to really socialise. “Never.”

“Can I talk to you real quick?” Dai casts his eyes around before clarifying. “Privately.”

Yuzuru nods and lets himself be lead to some random empty side-room. It didn’t take a genius to guess what Daisuke wants to talk about. It’s surprising no one else has asked, though Yuzuru isn’t sure who knows yet, and most will likely avoid the topic out of not wanting to pry or be rude. Not that it really mattered. Yuzuru was, after all, right when he told Shoma they really wouldn’t have to do much or act wildly out of character, to sell the story to people around them. Perception is all about framing, and they’ve fundamentally reframed their entire friendship. Anyone looking would see whatever they need to see.

Daisuke stops and turns to Yuzu, expression tight. “I heard you...You and Shoma are together?”

Yuzuru nods.

Daisuke still looks at him as if he’s stuck mid-wince. “Are you just fucking or is it serious?”

There’s only one answer Yuzuru can give, given what they’ve told their parents. Luckily, it’s the answer Yuzuru knows Dai wants to hear. “It’s serious.”

The tension in Dai’s face instantly melts away, a beaming smile breaking out in its place. “Congratulations! Oh wow. Wow. That’s...so great. Really.”

Yuzuru laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck. His stomach feels heavy again, weighed down with the uncomfortable knowledge that he’s lying. Seeing the joy on Dai’s face makes him wish he wasn't, so he could really accept that happiness and share it instead of just feeling horribly guilty.

“I’m glad that you’ve...I know it’s hard. For us. For you. To reconcile parts of yourself with your public image.”

“Yeah,” Yuzuru utters dryly as he tries to keep the bone-deep cringe off his face. He fails, but Dai seems to take that as an acceptable response and pats Yuzuru’s shoulder, now sober and sincere.  

“I’m sorry. That you kind of got outed. As far as I know, anyone who does know fully understands it’s not something to talk about openly. It’s being kept between friends.”

“I know.” Yuzuru cracks a thready smile. “I panicked at first, but it’s been kind of nice, having people know.”

Warmth trickles into Daisuke’s eyes, a small smile slowly unfurling. “Yeah?”

“Everyone has been nice about it or said nothing. It’s kind of comforting. I’m still kind of worried about it, though. Of losing control over who knows. Some things can’t really be out in the open.” Yuzuru shrugs. At least this is something he can be honest about.

“But that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t exist. And it doesn’t mean you can’t live your life. I do, and I’m fine.”

“You’re a national treasure.” _And you are not me_ , Yuzuru wants to add, but holds his tongue. It would be rude, to this senior he admires so much, but also unfair. Daisuke never exactly had it easy.

It was hard for Daisuke. Yuzuru knows how hard it was. But while Dai is beloved and held to high esteem, Yuzu is stuck in some different sphere. As hated as he is loved. Given awards and accolades, but also met with bitterness and venom. The first Olympic gold medalist for Japan, the first repeat gold in decades, the youngest honour award… the pressure is different. Their public lives have always been different.

Dai never really came out. Not by choice. But after he was sort-of outed he stopped hiding around friends, so it became an unspoken understanding, an open secret. It took him a long time to get there, though. A lot of hiding, a lot of shame and struggle. Yuzu never really put up as much pretence as Dai, he never tried to come across as straight other than the usual stuff like denying it outright when asked by people he wasn’t sure of or talking about actresses he finds pretty because he still has eyes.  Yuzuru more just distanced himself from sexuality entirely. Yuzuru just pushed it down, pushed it away, held it at arm's length. Dai could never do that. Maybe Dai’s sense of it was just stronger than Yuzuru’s, his drive something he couldn’t ignore while Yuzuru could always catch it in the crush stages and toss it away. Their differences could be summed up simply in how they skate; Yuzuru’s skating is cerebral, lyrical, abstract. Dai’s skating has always been more raw, grounded, emotional. Yuzuru can detach himself, Dai never could no matter how hard he tried. They are too different to relate on even ground.

“So are you. I’m happy that you’re trying to make it work now.” Daisuke’s eyes seem to drift into the middle distance, his voice grows smaller. “I wish I had realised earlier that I didn’t have to push that part of myself away. Maybe things would’ve been different.”

Yuzuru shifts uncomfortably. He knows exactly what Dai is talking about. Even if he had been a lot younger at the time and had never been a confidant to anyone, he wasn’t stupid.

“I wish I could have helped you, I guess. So you could get to this place faster.” Daisuke smiles bitterly. Yuzuru feels a pang of sympathy. Yuzuru might struggle with isolation and fear, but Dai struggled with fear and self-loathing. Daisuke shakes his head. “Maybe it’s better you found your way all on your own.

God, this is worse than talking to his mother, Yuzuru thinks. Knots of guilt wind up tight in the pit of his stomach, growing and growing the more Dai talks. The admiration in his voice, the respect and pride there really cuts Yuzuru deep.

“I had help.”

Yuzuru almost adds _‘I have Shoma_ ’. Another sliver of truth wrapped up in this lie because having someone to talk to who understands really has been a huge help. But he doesn't want to pour salt into Daisuke’s wounds. The way Dai thinks Yuzu has Shoma, he could have had Tatsuki. But it didn’t work out that way.

Yuzuru remembers that time, figuring it out. He had been jealous of Daisuke for a while. He’d stare at their backs and imagine being in his place, idly thinking what he would do differently if he had the chance if he had Tatsuki wanting _him_.

Then he saw everything fall apart, for the last time. That was when he felt justified with his avoidance of romantic entanglement and repression of every want he might have. Relationships are complicated and messy and best avoided. Yuzuru didn’t want distractions, he wanted gold medals.

“Yeah, you have great people around you for that.” Daisuke gives Yuzuru’s shoulder a pat. “I’m happy for you. Both of you. I love that kid.”

“Me too.”

Dai melts. Yuzuru swears his eyes look wet. “That’s so great.”

“You gonna warn me off like a good big brother?”

“Not necessary. You’re smarter than me,” Dai says with a shake of his head. “I’m too late anyway.”

Yuzuru snorts. “True.”

“Good luck here. I hope I get to skate in the last group with you for the free, at least!“

Yuzuru almost sighs in relief that this, the most awkward conversation he has possibly ever had in his life, is almost over. “You too. And, I think you will. You know, men reach their prime at 30?”

“You mean this is the best I’m gonna be?” Dai tuts and tosses his head.

“Hey, your best is really good.”

“I’ll take that flattery. But your flirting would be more effective if you weren’t taken.”

Yuzuru rolls his eyes. “Haha. Let’s go get our numbers before people notice we’re gone and start to talk.”

“What, they’ll think I’m having my way with you in a cupboard somewhere?”

Yuzuru smirks cheekily over his shoulder, pausing before he can reach the door. “You have set a precedent.”

Dai baulks. “You know about that?”

“I’ve heard stories.”

“From who? From _Macchi_?”

Yuzuru shakes his head and slips through the door, back to the hall where he’s instantly spotted and ushered to his seat for the draw. He’s glad he has no idea how Tatsuki would recount a sexual exploit. It would probably involve a lot of descriptive metaphors.

Yuzuru sits down next to Shoma, who greets him with a coy smile.

Yuzuru wishes they weren't lying.

***

The competition goes as normal. Everyone is focused on themselves, their own goals, conditions and performances.

There’s a moment, in practice before the Short, where Yuzuru gets distracted by Shoma. He’s not doing anything out of the ordinary, just running through his step sequence after a soaring triple axel. He’s wearing the same track pants he always wears, a loose t-shirt he’s worn before, but Yuzuru’s eyes are locked on him while he leans on the boards and sips his water, nodding along to whatever Ghislain is saying without listening to him. Shoma moves across the ice, sliding close on his knee and finishing up the sequence forgoing his spin. His hair is dishevelled and a little damp from sweat and his skin--

 _Ah. That’s it_. Yuzuru knows why he’s so distracted. The red, blotchy hue that spreads along Shoma’s jaw and creeps up towards his cheek that Shoma gets whenever he exerts himself, that’s what caught Yuzuru’s attention. He had it, that night in Vancouver, Yuzuru remembers. Just from kissing, that same angry blush had appeared low on Shoma’s cheeks and a pink. Only deeper, darker, richer in colour. It’s weird to know, now, how Shoma looks when he’s aroused.

Yuzuru forces himself to look away, try not to think about it but it’s hard not to. He knows, he can see, that Shoma’s chest flushes pink too. He wonders how far down the colour goes, where else the spots of colour might appear.

He finishes up the practice session still trying not to think about it, blades cutting the ice furiously beneath him. He remembers how hot Shoma’s skin felt, the tension in his body, the shudder in his breath. Yuzuru pushes the thoughts away. He shouldn’t know what Shoma looks like when he’s turned on. He really shouldn’t be thinking about it.

But he does.

There’s no need for them to put on any kind of act. That had been the genius of the plan. They could, for the most part, act the way they always have. Now they’d dealt with Shoma’s mom, there was no need to go out of their way to act the part because it’s natural for them to talk to each other, natural for Yuzuru to touch Shoma, hold onto his shoulders and jiggle them about or tickle his sides for attention.

In the locker room, Shoma casually leans into Yuzuru and releases a heavy sigh against his neck. It feels normal, natural, easy. Yuzuru lifts his hand and strokes his fingers through the hair at the back of Shoma’s head, still a bit damp from showering even though he towelled it before he got dressed. No one is looking at them, no one takes notice, except a passing glance from Dai and a tiny smirk from Keiji that Yuzu barely notices from the corner of his eye. No one cares, because it’s not so out of the ordinary to stand out. Everyone knows they are close, they are friends, and Yuzuru has always been touchy.

“My skates are breaking down.”

“Your skates always seem to break down right in time for competition.”

Shoma huffs out a quiet laugh against Yuzuru’s skin that makes his skin ghost cold. “Yeah, I dunno what happened to my routine. It’s really gone to shit.”

“Maybe you need to change brand.”

Shoma sighs and straightens up. Yuzuru’s hand falls away from him. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Will they last the competition?”

“They should do, but I can feel the ankle support is pretty much gone.”

Yuzuru’s lips thin. Shoma knows how to deal with boots that have gone too soft, but he can’t help the tug of concern. Shoma looks up at him, big, brown eyes meeting Yuzuru’s gaze.”I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Yeah, and you got injured.”

Shoma’s eyes turn amused. He shrugs. “Only a little bit.”

“I don't want you getting injured at all,” Yuzuru says with a pout. It just slips out. He knows how it sounds. “It’s no fun competing against you if you’re not at your best.”

Shoma laughs and rolls his eyes. “I’ll tape them up really good, just for you.”

Yuzuru feels weird. Like there’s birds trapped in his chest wanting to burst out. Not in a way that is scary, not like an asthma attack. It’s kind of... pleasant. Warm and happy but confusing and strange like he’s not sure to laugh or cry, but he’s not sure why.

Yuzuru swallows it down and smiles. “You better.”

***

The competition ends with Yuzuru standing on the centre podium, with Shoma getting the silver medal and Daisuke edging out Keiji for the bronze. For the most part, they did okay. Shoma’s boots didn’t quite carry him through his quads, and lethargy after Grand Prix showed in both of them.

Yuzuru was going to head to his own room once everything was over. When they were all washed up and changed, when skates and costumes were packed away, and media was dealt with all Yuzuru had planned was heading to his hotel room, eating dinner and going to sleep but somewhere along the way Shoma had grabbed his hand and tiredly tugged Yuzuru to his room instead. Yuzuru follows behind while Shoma flips on a bedside lamp in passing and haphazardly kicks off his shoes, leading Yuzuru to the bed furthest from the door and mutely pushing him towards it.

“What--?”

“Nap,” Shoma interrupts, punctuated with a yawn that he doesn’t even try to smother at all. “Get on the bed.”

Yuzuru frowns, but toes off his shoes and tucks them beside the bed anyway. Her sits, perching on the edge before Shoma crawls on and urges Yuzuru to lie down. Shoma pulls Yuzuru back, flush against his chest. Yuzuru stares out towards the other bed. Shoma is sharing this room with Keiji. Is that why he’s doing this? Keiji is out somewhere, probably in someone else’s hotel room, but he’ll come back. Is this just a show for Keiji? So he can walk in and see the two of them cuddling on the bed with Shoma behind him curled around him, his knees tucked up against the hollow of Yuzuru’s, belly pressed against the curve of Yuzuru’s spine and face tucked up against his neck? Why?

Yuzuru lies there, stiff as a board while Shoma clumsily pulls the comforter over them. The sheets are chilly in contrast to Shoma’s body. Yuzuru wants to relax into it, but can’t. His eyes drift towards the door.

“Why are we doing this?”

“Because I’m tired and I want a nap,” Shoma mumbles into Yuzuru’s neck.

“But why do I need to be here?”

“Because the bed is cold,” Shoma responds, voice as quiet as Yuzuru’s own and thick with exhaustion. “And you need a rest too. If I didn’t drag you here and make you nap with me, you'd hang out alone in your room all night watching your performances a hundred times. Now you’ll rest and hang out with Keiji and me all night instead.”

Shoma has a point. Yuzuru is tired down to his bones, his muscles ache, and he desperately needs rest, but he’d never do it on his own. He’d wait until night had fallen and the call of sleep was impossible to ignore.

“Why do you need to spoon me, though?”

“Because it’s nice. Stop questioning everything.”

“So this isn’t an act for anyone?”

“No one is _here_ ,” Shoma points out, a bit testy but still just muttering against Yuzuru’s skin. He sighs, breath hot and damp against Yuzuru’s skin and his lips brush the nape of Yuzuru’s neck when he talks. “You hide away all the time and get all touch-starved...I really didn’t think you’d be so bothered by me hugging you.”

“I’m not bothered. It’s nice. I just...thought you didn’t really like stuff like this.”

“I do. Just with certain people. I used to be intimidated by you and we weren’t that close. Now you’re someone I’m comfortable with. I want to hug you and nap.”

Yuzuru’s stomach does a flip. But the nice kind of flip that is more like a buzz of excitement than anything else. Shoma isn’t thinking about putting on a show for one reason or another, he just feels close enough to Yuzuru, trusts him enough, feels safe enough to be affectionate and sleep alongside him. Shoma had dozed off around Yuzuru before, used his shoulder or legs as a pillow but not often and not ever like this where he’s sought Yuzuru out and held him close so they can rest together.  “Oh.”

“Is that okay? You can leave if you want to.”

“No. No. It’s okay; I want to stay.”

Shoma lets out a tiny yawn into Yuzuru’s ear and settles down, wiggling to get the most comfortable position. “Then stop talking and sleep.”

Yuzuru smiles and closes his eyes, the tension he’d been holding in his back and shoulders leaking away. This is real. Just Shoma wanting to give Yuzuru something he needs. Just Shoma holding him because he wants to. Yuzuru feels Shoma’s breath deepen and become slow and even and follows him in sleep knowing that this is not part of the game.

***

Yuzuru rolls over, into the warmth of Shoma’s body. His arms instinctively wind around Yuzuru’s waist again, pulling him in, their legs tangling together. Shoma is so close Yuzuru can feel the breath that passes from Shoma’s lips to Yuzuru’s. He almost doesn’t want to exhale again, wanting to hold that air inside, wanting to keep that little bit of Shoma for as long as he can. Yuzuru isn’t sure he’s ever been so close to share air with another person like this. Not since he was a child.

Yuzuru opens his eyes slowly. Through the haze of sleep Shoma’s face comes into focus in fragments; the soft curve of his cheek catches the orange glow of a lamp. His eyes are closed, long lashes casting shadows over his skin. Yuzuru’s eyes drift down, to Shoma’s parted lips, full and pink and lax with sleep. Then back up to take in the whole picture and savouring the sight of Shoma so peaceful and vulnerable and close. He looks almost angelic with the soft waves of hair almost falling over his eyes, catching the lamplight like a halo and the golden hue the light leaves where it kisses the high points of his face. Yuzuru raises his hand to touch, the lightest caress of his fingertips against Shoma’s cheek. Yuzuru doesn't want to wake him, not yet. He’s not ready for the moment to end. Not now. Not when it feels like time is standing still, and the whole world is falling away leaving only him and Shoma, silent and serene, lost in dreams.

It dawns on Yuzuru slowly. Just thoughts, feelings, unfurling from the back of his mind like blossoms in the spring.

Yuzuru wants this to be real.

He wants this all to be real.

He wants this to be real with Shoma.

If it was just as simple as Yuzuru realising that, after all this, he wants to date he could go out and date anyone. But doesn’t want anyone, he wants Shoma. No one else. He wants all the little flirty jokes and playful teasing, the gaming together at midnight and the Skype calls at 2am, the edge of competition between them and the constant encouragement and support that goes with it. He wants the trust between them, the openness and honesty, the way they confide in each other and comfort each other. He wants the kisses in Vancouver. Yuzuru wants it all to be real.

It should be shocking, a revelation. It’s not. Yuzuru continues to breathe steadily, in and out, looking at Shoma’ relaxed face. _I like him_ , Yuzuru thinks. _Oh_.  

It’s just like learning a new fact, but one that is kind of obvious and he should have known before. One plus one is two. The sky is blue. Yuzuru Hanyu likes Shoma Uno and wants to be in a real romantic relationship with him. The Earth is round. Water is wet.

Yuzuru traces Shoma’s lip with his finger, embracing the sharp tug of longing he feels like there’s nothing he wants more than to lean forward and kiss Shoma awake.

He doesn’t have to. Maybe Yuzuru moving jostled Shoma out of his slumber, or maybe Yuzuru’s fingertips against his cheek were not so gentle they couldn’t pull him from sleep. Either way, Shoma’s eyelids flutter and crack open, just a little bit.

“Hi,” Yuzuru whispers, trailing his fingers down to rest his hand at the curve where Shoma’s neck meets shoulder. Yuzuru likes his shoulders, the breadth of them, the way they round off from the muscle beneath the skin. They are strong and sturdy, like the rest of Shoma, but with a softness that suits him too. They're nice to hold onto. Yuzuru’s always liked the way they feel against his hands, the way the roundness fits into his palms.

Shoma grunts, eyes still barely open and bleary from sleep.

“Good nap?”

“Mm. You’re a good nap buddy.”

“Maybe we should do this more often.”

“That’d be nice.” A small, tired smile curls at the corner of Shoma’s lips. Yuzuru’s chest tightens at the sight of it. “So you liked it after all that fuss.”

Yuzuru can’t tear his eyes away from that lazy smile. His fingers brush at Shoma’s jaw. “Of course I did.”

It’s unstoppable, uncontrollable, unignorable. The need to lean forward, close the gap between them and kiss Shoma right now is so strong Yuzuru can not, will not, resist it. He doesn’t have the will to try. Not now, when it’s just the two of them. There’s no guise of pretending or practising or putting on a show to convince someone that their lie is true. The sleepy, satisfied smile on Shoma’s face is just too sweet to not taste. It feels right. It feels natural. As if kissing Shoma right now is the only action Yuzuru could possibly take.

Yuzuru isn’t subtle. At all. He shifts closer and flicks his gaze up to Shoma’s eyes. His breath shudders out from him as he stalls, not sure if Shoma would want this, not sure if it's okay outside the context of a joke or a ploy. Shoma’s eyes are hazy, questioning.

“Can I?”

Shoma gives a minute nod of his head, and so Yuzuru comes forward and kisses him.

It’s much like the first time he tried with his heart hammering in his chest and the brush of their lips awkward and hesitant. But them Shoma kisses Yuzuru in return, and the anxiety is washed away by just... _joy_.

Yuzuru smiles against Shoma’s lips and cups his cheek as gently as he can. His heart is still racing, skin tingling, dizzy from the rush. It’s exciting in a different way to the last time they kissed because this time it’s not for show. It means something. It’s something real. This time they are kissing and just for them. No pretence. Just because they want to. This could lead to something, this could be a start for them of really being more than just friends. This could be their confessions to each other; that they really want this and they feel the same, and they both want to be more. Maybe this was what Yuzuru wanted all along. It makes sense.

Yuzuru relaxes against Shoma’s body. They kiss languidly, as if they do this all time as if it’s natural for Yuzuru to kiss Shoma awake. Yuzuru savours it; the cocoon of warmth around them, the soft sheets, the way Shoma’s cheek feels beneath his palm and the lazy drag of Shoma’s lips against his.

He giggles against Shoma’s mouth, kissing him over and over, too happy to think. He feels like he’s going to burst; like he’s full of light, like a star is being born in his chest, and he’s about to explode into a million pieces. He can feel Shoma return his smile in every kiss they trade; from short and sweet little pecks to lingering kisses that steal his breath, even when they try for a better angle that will allow them to kiss deeper. This is real. Yuzuru is so giddy from that thought he isn’t sure what to do with himself. He wants to roll Shoma on his back and crawl on top of him, kiss him until they are gasping for air and their lips are swollen. Then lie beside him and look up at the ceiling and laugh at how this silly game led him to realise just how much he really, really wants this comfort and closeness all the time. How much he wants _Shoma_.

Yuzuru hears a cough. Then another. A forced, hacking sound coming from behind them that breaks the bubble around them.

Yuzuru tears himself away from Shoma, neck nearly snapping when he turns to look back at the other bed only to see Keiji sat there, legs stretched out in front of him, pointedly looking at his laptop screen.

It’s like all the heat has been sucked out of the room. The illusion is broken. Yuzuru’s happiness vanishes in a puff of smoke and is replaced by doubt and a cold, hard serving of disappointment.

“Keiji?” Yuzuru croaks, “How long have you been here?”

“About twenty minutes.”

Yuzuru rolls onto his side, facing away from Shoma, so he won’t see the crushed he is because it’s bound to be written all over his face. Keiji does see it though.

“Sorry for cock-blocking you.”

Yuzuru shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak. He wants to cry. Did Shoma know Keiji was there? Had this all been part of the game after all? Had Shoma seen him at some point, or just expected him to come back?

Shoma presses up against his back and sleepily nuzzles into his neck, dropping a kiss onto his shoulder. Yuzuru closes his eyes, letting out a long breath to compose himself. Shoma is just hamming it up for Keiji. He’s not doing this because he wants to, he’s doing it because that’s the game. It’s just another show. The real moment Yuzuru thought he had is snatched from his hands just like that, and the wash of warm air against his skin where Shoma breathes against him makes it hurt even more. His whole body aches from the loss of that thing he never really had.

“What are you doing?” Shoma asks Keiji. His voice is rough from sleep, and he speaks so close to Yuzuru’s ear it sends goosebumps running down his arms. It’s not fair.

“Looking at my protocols from this season,” Keiji responds glumly. “I don't think they’ll pick me for Worlds.”

Yuzuru opens his eyes and mentally shakes himself out of his gloom. He can’t show how hurt he is. He can’t show that he’s disappointed. He has to play the game and keep everything else within. He’s used to that. He’s good at it.

“Sure they will.”

Keiji shakes his head, “I didn't make the podium.”

“But Dai won’t go, he hasn’t competed internationally all season and has already said he’d rather give the spot to someone else,” Shoma tells him.

“Kazuki did better than me at the Grand Prix,” Keiji mutters glumly, “And at World’s last year.”

“But you beat him here,” Yuzuru argues. “They take Nationals results as a priority.”

It’s an awkward situation, really. Daisuke didn’t come back to competition with major events in mind, he just wanted to make it to Nationals.

“They’ll probably put you on the World’s team and send Kazuki to 4CC,” Shoma chimes in. “That makes the most sense.”

Keiji looks at them and shrugs. “Maybe. But if they take recent results into account-”

“Keiji, you’re still the better option.” Yuzuru sighs. Keiji has the potential, but his confidence gets in the way and leads to costly errors. If he were to skate his best, the way Yuzuru knows he can, he’d be the better choice for World’s every time. “You’re more likely to help us keep three spots.”

Keiji’s shoulders droop even further. This isn't just about skating, results or competitions. It’s about Keiji’s place on the team. Yuzuru chews on his bottom lip, he hates Keiji seeming so...defeated. Even though he skated the best he has all season here, even though he’s getting better, he still thinks it’s not enough and that sucks.

“Do you want to join the cuddle pile?”

Keiji eyes Yuzuru and musters up a smirk. “Depends, are you going to slip me some tongue too?”

Yuzuru smiles. “Only if you ask nicely.”

He feels Shoma’s arms tighten around his waist, almost possessively, though maybe that just what Yuzuru wishes it was.

Keiji looks at the way Shoma’s chin is propped up on Yuzuru’s shoulder and quirks a brow. “Tempting. But it doesn't look like Shoma is up for it.”

“You can come and get a hug,” Shoma offers flatly. Yuzuru wants to look back, see what his expression is like, try to get a read on what he’s feeling, but when he does Shoma’s face is neutral. Yuzuru doesn't know what it means, if it means anything at all.

Keiji moves over to them, slotting himself against Yuzuru. The three of them lie there, listening while Keiji talks, offering him comfort as much as they can. It’s nice, but it makes something twist inside Yuzuru. Holding onto Keiji the way Shoma is holding on to him makes him question everything all over again, if had taken the intimacy of close friendship as romance without Shoma ever intending for that to happen, and if he could be satisfied with that when the game came to an end.

If he tells Shoma he wants more, and Shoma rejects him, could they stay friends? Yuzuru isn't sure and he hates that.

He wishes it could be simple.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update fgfgdf  
> Anyway, I'm back in the UK now!


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